


When the Sun Rose Again

by Zooheaded



Series: The Hunter and the Thief [2]
Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: ADHD Character, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexual Character, Drama, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pansexual Character, Pre-Slash, Slice of Life, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1341637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zooheaded/pseuds/Zooheaded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Often, the end of one road is merely the beginning of a new one. </p><p>Following the defeat of the Prime Evil, Jack recovers from a trying series of battles while his companions think on the world that almost wasn't, what lies ahead, and what it means to be Nephalem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

> _It seems you prophesized_  
>  _All of this would end_  
>  _Were you burned away_  
>  _When the sun rose again?_  
>  ― _When the Sun Rose Again_ , Alice in Chains
> 
>  

 

Jack thought of his sister's face and Leah's carefree laugh as the moment of the killing blow presented itself and he filled Diablo's twisted, hulking body with arrows. Even as life left the great beast, he continued to fire until he had emptied his quiver of every bolt he had.

And then there was light.

A sudden voice in his head accompanied by a great vision of countless stars that moved serpentine through a void and glowing eyes of swirling comets. The voice was familiar, yet he knew he had never heard it before.

 _"Balance... is... preserved...."_ The voice said in a tone that boomed like rolling thunder.

Then the vision faded like a dream, and it was quiet but for his own breathing.

Diablo's wretched corpse fell from the edge of the silver spire and he watched it plummet, disintegrating as it fell, until only the Black Soulstone remained. He saw the stone land heavily on a balcony far below and knew that they would be able to retrieve it with little difficulty. And after that? He did not know.

The Lord of Terror was dead and all his brothers with him. The nightmare was finally over and the Prime was banished from the world. He held his crossbows tightly in his hands, knuckles white, his fingers refused to obey his mind's command to relax his hold.

Legion was dead. It was done. He released a slow breath that he felt like he'd been holding for days and days.

His heart beat heavily in his chest and the cold sweat on his body was drying in the soft breeze that lifted flakes of corruption and ash from the crystalline floor, and sent it swirling away into the sky. The malevolent storm had passed and the air smelled sweet again. In the peaceful lull, he could almost forget the nightmare he just (barely) lived through in the realm of terror.

Almost.

But it was _over_ now, it didn't matter. He'd done what he set out to do. He'd sought his revenge against all of demonkind and had achieved the ultimate, the death of the great demon lords. He stood there very still for a long time, unsure of what he felt. Happiness? Relief?

Nothing?

Perhaps he was just tired, he reasoned. It was very likely, he had not slept for at least three days that he could remember, after that, everything sort of ran together and he couldn't separate the days. At the moment he couldn't physically feel much of anything. His body was strangely numb, like it was disconnected from his head.

He stood there for many minutes, gazing out into the rapidly lightening sky, before the angels caught up with him.

He felt Auriel's approach before he saw her, the warmth and calm of her presence was immediately discernible.

"The day is won and the light of dawn has come back to us.” Auriel's gentle voice said to him. “Mankind is victorious this day."

"Yes." His voice echoed in Heaven's strange atmosphere. It sounded different to him, raw and strange, like he'd forgotten how to speak.

Itherael drifted to his side. "Walk with me Nephalem. There is something I must discuss with you." Itherael said.

Walking and speaking were at the bottom of the list of things he wanted to do at that moment, but he would not deny the angel's request. Then he remembered. "Kormac and Eirena... _Lyndon_ , he's trapped, I have to-" Jack began anxiously.

"He has already been freed and is on his way to find you with your other companions. Tyrael comes as well. Do not be concerned." Was the angel's response. Jack almost forgot that he would be able to see them on his scroll.

A wave of relief, the first thing he'd felt since rage and tiredness in many days. He lurched forward, forcing himself to move. "Very well."

=+=+=+=+=+=

Lyndon hacked viciously with his dagger at the bony, cage-like structure that had trapped him in place, he needed to find Eirena and Kormac so that they could help Jack in the Silver Spire. The blade made little headway, barely carving dust from the steel like protrusions. He kicked at one of the spikes in frustration and nearly fell as he lost his balance when it disintegrated around him.

What had happened?

Then he could see light breaking through the clouds and shining upon the crystal arch, making it sparkle like thousands of diamonds and he _knew_ then, knew that they had won and the world was saved. The relief that came, as he saw rays of sunlight burning away the corruption and healing the angelic structures, was so powerful it was dizzying.

He stared at the crystal walkway, trying to see what was going on in the Spire, but there was so much light and clouds that he couldn't make anything out. “Lyndon!” Someone called. He knew that voice! He spun around quickly, and was overjoyed (for once) to see Kormac running towards him, and Eirena following close behind.

“Still alive I see, well don't just stand there! Let's go!” Kormac shouted as he reached him.

“Pleased to see you too Kormac.” Lyndon replied with a smile, nothing could dampen his spirits at this moment. Eirena smiled at him and he grinned back at her, so glad that they both had lived.

They ran together along the crystal walkway and were met with an incredible sight: A great crystalline, structure like the backbone of an immense beast, thrummed with light beneath the path they tread upon.

“What in the Hells _is_ that?” Lyndon breathed, it looked to him to be the largest precious stone in the entire _world_. A great meteor of a diamond!

“It is said that it is the backbone of Anu, the first and purest being in all the universe. It is from here that angels are born from the song of its light.” Eirena explained, eyes wide with wonder.

“I have never seen _anything_ so beautiful.” The Templar murmured, awestruck.

Lyndon was speechless. And he continued to be speechless as they entered the Silver Spire. He cast his eyes about frantically for the Demon Hunter, eager to see him and know that he was alive. He spotted him quickly, a black shadow against all the blue and gold and white. He was speaking to the archangel of Fate. Tyrael was there too, he stood with Auriel.

Akarat's _mercy_ , he had done it and he was still _alive_. He was a Nephalem after all. Truly it boggled the mind. Lyndon had thought when Jack had said goodbye and walked away from him in the cage, after they quickly figured out that they couldn't free the scoundrel and didn't have the time to try, that he might never see him alive again. The joy he felt in seeing that he still lived was overwhelming and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears.

“You truly _are_ the one the prophet spoke of.” Eirena shouted, breaking the spell of wonder. “Oh... and you're _awfully_ nice too!” Eirena ran to Jack and embraced him before he could do anything. Tyrael watched their little reunion with amusement.

Surprisingly, Jack briefly returned the embrace and smiled at her before stepping back. “Eirena, I'm glad you're alright.” He said to her gently as she wiped at her eyes. “I left everything I knew behind to fight with you.” Eirena continued, “It was the best choice I've ever made!”

“Yes.” Kormac added, “Many men died to see this day come to pass, and you made certain they did not die in vain. You are a true champion.”

“I'm glad I didn't disappoint you.” Jack said quietly.

The Demon Hunter turned to Lyndon when the scoundrel got to him and _smiled_ , actually smiled at him. His eyes were blazing with Hellfire and his body emitted a shadowy smoke, but he was _smiling_.

"Are those tears in your eyes Lyndon?" The demon hunter asked. It was a tease Lyndon realized, about his little emotional slip up yesterday, but there was no malice in it. The scoundrel could only stupidly reply. "N-no! It's raining!"

"It doesn't rain here in the High Heavens." Jack said to him, only adding to his embarrassment.

"Well it does now!" He countered childishly, wiping at his eyes furiously.

Jack was still smiling at him, more than Lyndon had ever seen him do in all the time he'd known him. It was almost unnerving. "I have a gift for you Lyndon." Jack said softly.

"I-Is that so?" Lyndon questioned hesitantly. More than he'd given him already? A whole bloody _world_ to continue living in?

"Yes. It's gold. When the time is right we will go to Kingsport, pay your debts and free your brother." Jack said evenly.

Lyndon felt a wave of gray shock wash over him. He could hardly breathe. Gods, it would fix everything... _everything_. Jack was... He was doing this for _him_? No one had _ever_... He couldn't believe it. "You... you can't be _serious_." He half whispered.

"I'm extremely serious." Jack answered wryly. "You know me."

"I-I don't know what to _say_." Lyndon finally stammered, feeling tears burn in his eyes, again, sweat making them sting.

Jack laughed then, a warm and smoky sound.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." The hunter said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "You always do." He turned back to Eirena and Kormac."Eirena? I hope you are still staying? You wanted our paths to remain together did you not? Surely some of your sisters still live and we will find them. And Kormac? We must go to your order and set things right." Jack continued, walking away from the balcony where Diablo's corpse had fallen. Eirena and Kormac nodded eagerly, grinning from ear to ear.

"And we must be on the lookout for Adria's next move." Tyrael added, stepping forward to join them. "She cannot be forgotten, as great a triumph as this is."

"Yes. As long as there is a Hell, there will always be evil. Adria has not been forgotten or forgiven. There are many loose ends." The hunter said with traces of weariness creeping into his voice. "There is still much to do."

"We can speak of it later.” The former archangel suggested, “I believe you've all, at the very least, earned a long rest, Jack especially. Let us return to Bastion's Keep and bring the good news."

Lyndon was still stunned by what Jack had told him, had _given_ him. He couldn't believe his generosity. Wealth obviously did not matter to the Hunter at all, buying his brother's freedom was _not_ cheap. They said goodbye to the angels and headed back toward the portal.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Jack walked slowly, feeling bouts of dizziness trying to overtake him every few moments. He knew he needed to rest, it would only be a little longer, then he could collapse. He just needed to last a little longer so that no one would see him when he was at his weakest. He couldn't let anyone see him in such a way, it went against his very nature.

_Don't let them see. Keep going. Just a bit longer._

He repeated this over and over as a mantra in his head and tried to force himself to stand taller and walk without a limp.

He glanced at his companions again and thought about what Itherael and Auriel had said to him.

=+=+=+

"You have faced many challenges and triumphed in the face of certain failure, but you are not the first to have done so." Itherael said. Jack listened as attentively as he could, recalling what information he knew about the great defeat of the Prime Evils.

"Six heroes before you have bested Diablo and his brothers. But neither victory was permanent, nor came without price." The archangel continued.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"The first fell to madness after defeating Diablo twenty years ago and later became his vessel. This... dark wanderer freed Baal from Tal Rasha's tomb and awoke Mephisto beneath Travincal. A group of human heroes with varying abilities banded together to fight them. Diablo and Mephisto were defeated and contained, but Baal, newly freed, marched on Arreat. In the end, he too was banished after a great battle within the chamber of the Worldstone, but at the cost of the stone's destruction. These events, you know of.” Itherael explained to him, voice echoing like a spirit's.

Jack nodded, remembering the bits and pieces he had read from Cain's journal.

"I do not know what has become of all of them, some still live, while others have since died, victims of deteriorating minds.

The Demon Hunter listened, tired beyond reason, digesting this information with a bit of dread.

"You are the first Nephalem to be birthed after the destruction of the Worldstone and unique in the way that demonic corruption has no hold over you, but you are weak in another way. This battle has become a burden that you must bear, and now that your task has more or less ended, the emptiness will gnaw at you as it has for so many before you.” The archangel explained.

“I see you in the scroll now, but your fate is still uncertain. Unlike most mortals, you have many strings you might follow. Your companions have been gifted with multiple paths as well, but their futures are directly tied to yours." Ithereal said.

"I'm not sure I understand.” Jack responded. “Are you telling me... that I'm going to go insane?" Jack asked evenly. "Because I cannot continue without the battles?"

"That is one of many possibilities." Ithereal answered cryptically.

Jack went silent, he had often thought on what he would do should the battles ever stop coming, he had found it best to assume that his foes would come endlessly. That he would fight until his dying breath.

"But all is not lost. For some champions it was only madness and death. For others a slow lingering life consumed by horrors. You are different. There is Hope." Itherael said and Auriel came forward.

"Your companions will help you. Keep them close to you Nephalem. Their strength will help you in more ways than one."

"Eirena and... Kormac?" Jack asked, confused.

"Yes, and the amusing one. The rogue." She continued with a smile in her voice.

"Lyndon?" He said with a bit of disbelief, he hasn't expected Lyndon to have much part in his life beyond this, other than when he would help him free his brother, and possibly finding Adria.

"There are many pages beyond today, many events." Itherael offered.

“I suppose if I ask what they might be you will say that you cannot tell me?” Jack stated knowingly.

“Correct. Sometimes even I do not know all that the future holds. It will reveal itself in time.” Ithereal finished.

What did they mean? Eirena and Kormac would stay with him? And what could Lyndon possibly do for him other than the same ridiculous things he'd been doing while they traveled together? He was puzzled and it hurt his head to think and made the dizziness worse so he filed it away to think on later.

"It is alright to trust them, they will keep the light in you kindled." Auriel had told him. "You will not give in to the emptiness of purposelessness if you keep love and hope in your heart. Rest now Jack, you have earned it. We will see each other again." She said gently.

“Thank you angels.” Jack said and turned away at the sound of Eirena's voice.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Jack looked a bit peaky and rather strung out, Lyndon noticed. He _really_ needed to sleep.

Lyndon did too, after the initial joy in the wake of their victory wore off, he felt the pull of heavy, numbing exhaustion. It made his legs want to give out. He was afraid that if he stood still for too long he would simply fall over and be unable to get up again. He looked around at the others, Eirena's face also held great weariness and even the proud Templar was practically dragging his heavy shield behind him. Even Tyrael seemed tired, it must have been strange for him to experience it like mortals do.

Lyndon couldn't quite be sure how different it was from being a tired angel, perhaps it was the same? He'd have to remember to ask the archangel when he got a moment.

They really were a rather _pathetic_ looking bunch, shambling toward the portal in not too dissimilar a fashion than the undead they slaughtered en masse. Lyndon would have laughed at the similarity had he not felt so damned tired.

The waypoints they'd set up in Heaven made traveling back to the portal a bit quicker, but that kind of magical transportation always made him feel a bit ill. They stepped through the portal one by one and Lyndon closed his eyes against the light and dizzying effect the portal created. He hoped he'd never have to travel this way again. He opened his eyes again with some difficulty due to stinging wind that sucked all the heat from his body and set the lot of them shivering in their tiredness. He had not missed the weather at Bastion's Keep one bit. It was almost a torture when you compared it to the gentle summertime afternoon warmth of the high heavens.

The cold was miserable, but they were all so disgustingly relieved it didn't even matter. They hurried inside to a group of terrified expectant faces in the heart of the keep all staring at them silently.

Jack stepped forward and addressed them in a soft voice, "We've won."

=+=+=+=+=+=

The noise of cheers and peoples relieved voices that erupted sounded muffled to Jack, like he was hearing it from underwater. He was afraid to move too quickly, lest he lose his balance and collapse. His body felt strange and over heated and he sweat heavily inside the keep, even though that inside, it was still cold enough to see his breath puffing out in clouds in front of him. His heart pounded heavily making his skull pulse in time.

He jumped when people touched him to congratulate or thank him, it took most of his concentration to not point his crossbows or draw a knife reflexively. He needed to maintain _control_. He wanted to thank them for accepting and supporting him but he could barely speak. The room tilted slightly, almost dangerously, as he moved, but he blinked it away and made his way through the throng to Tyrael with dogged determination.

He could not rest until he knew.

The former archangel had seated himself on an empty crate next to Haedrig's forge, El'Druin resting across his lap as he warmed himself by the heat of the fire.

"You should be resting Nephalem. Even powerful ones such as you have limits." Tyrael said gently as he approached. "Enjoy this great victory, you have _won_ Jack."

" _We_ won, I cannot claim sole credit.” Jack answered tiredly.

Tyrael merely smiled and nodded, saying nothing more.

“What will become of the Black Soulstone?" Jack asked wearily. There were many loose ends and he would not abide leaving them untied.

"Auriel relayed to me that I am to speak to the Angiris Council. We will discuss what will be done with it very soon. I expect they will not like to keep it in the High Heavens any longer than necessary." Tyrael explained, dragging a cloth over his blade in smooth motions, polishing any lingering grime away. "I believe you are expected to attend in one way or another. If not by Imperius, then by myself and the other members of the council. Your input is valued, even if Imperius does not think you worth his time."

"And Adria?" Jack asked, glancing toward the stairs that led to the armory.

Where Leah's few possessions still remained.

"We will find her." Tyrael said, face hardening. "Make no mistake about that. For Leah. The witch will show herself again, and when she does-"

Hatred for Adria surged within Jack then, burning away all traces of exhaustion and flooding his veins with burning adrenaline. His eyes burned brightly, he could feel their heat on his cheeks.

"Vengeance will be mine." He muttered darkly. "She will pay for _everything_."

=+=+=+=+=

Tyrael looked sad for a moment, staring at the Demon Hunter, but Jack did not notice, he was too wrapped up in staying on his feet and staring hatefully into the distance. Jack could not even sit warmly in their great triumph. His heart was too badly burned by what he had lost.

By what they _all_ had lost at Adria's hands.

Leah, the poor girl, how did it all go so wrong?

The demon hunter brought a hand to his face and massaged his eyes with a wince, as if he could rub the Hellfire glow out of them.

"You should sleep now, you look very tired." Tyrael suggested again. It would not do to have the greatest champion of their age collapsing in a heap on the damp floor, Jack was at the end of his impressive endurance.

Jack blinked and his eyes lost the fiery glow to be replaced with a bright blue green. He looked weary beyond measure, drawn thin.

"Yes I... I think I will go rest. Thank you Tyrael. For everything." Jack said softly, turning away from the former Archangel of Justice.

Tyrael worried for the Demon Hunter. Worried that he would succumb, like many heroes before him, to the madness and pain of fighting the denizens of the Burning Hells.

He now called the man _friend_ , strange as it felt. And he wanted him to have a better outcome than those that had fought evil before him.

It had been a trying task, but there were no others who could have taken such a burden. He would admit that he had used Jack's incredible power for what he thought was the correct course of action, but he knew that at the very least, they had wanted the same end. The death of the lords of Hell. An end to the eternal conflict, which they may just have achieved, but it was too early to tell.

Jack walked a fine line, standing on a knife's edge that could send him tumbling into what remained of the realm of Mephisto. His hatred could very well drive him mad. And for one such as he to have conquered his fears but enter the realm of terror? What had he seen there? They might never know.

Yes, Tyrael worried for him. He would keep an eye on him when he could, and prayed that the Nephalem's strange companions would as well. He had a feeling that they would need him again, if not for Adria then for something else.

One thing was for certain, the only future peace had to offer, was war.

As he watched Jack wearily drag himself toward the armory stairs, he saw Lyndon catch up to him, put an arm around him and help him walk carefully. The scoundrel shouted loudly at the crowd of admirers to let Jack be, clearing the way to the armory.

The hunter leaned heavily on the other man and allowed himself to be supported.

Smiling, Tyrael felt the warmth of hope filling his heart. Mortals were _endlessly_ surprising. Auriel's song was loud and clear.

=+=+=+=+=

Cheering! For him! _Everyone_ was cheering!

He was considered a _hero_. They were _all_ heroes. Lyndon was elated at this new experience, he was so used to being in trouble or hated that it felt good to be the good guy for once. There were mothers and children _thanking_ him! Akarat's blood, some of them were even _weeping_. He basked in the attention like a cat in a patch of sunlight.

There were bags and bags of riches too, he couldn't forget that! He carefully stashed them away with the hunter's few possessions. He'd never had such a haul, not even robbing the merchants guild bank could compare with what he had earned and to what Jack had given him. He could get his brother out! Make things right! The only thing that could make this moment better would be a beautiful girl on each arm to go with the pile of spoils from their little crusade.

And if he wasn't so dog tired. Oh, and also not absolutely, disgustingly, _wretchedly_ filthy. That would be nice too.

He was so happy he was almost giddy, but suspected he was just overtired.

Haedrig appeared beside him and pulled him aside at Shen's caravan, clapping him on the back firmly. His eyes had tears in them and Lyndon smiled wolfishly at him, pleased to see the amiable blacksmith again. They'd become good friends and drinking buddies after a time, and Haedrig frequently purchased items from him that he brought back from his outings with Jack. Lyndon was glad to see him alive.

"You get out of there alright yeh rotten scoundrel? I can' believe yeh made it." The blacksmith said to him.

"Yes, I suppose I did. We all made it out alright. Thanks to Jack." Lyndon replied.

The unspoken 'almost all of us' hung in the air. To think of Leah was still too painful.

"That young man is quite, ehm, remarkable isn't he?" Covetous Shen said from where he was warming himself in front of a great, glinting red fire opal.

"Indeed." Lyndon agreed proudly, eying the gem.

"I knew he could do it, at first I had my doubts, I thought we were all done fer." Haedrig admitted shamefully. "I didn't dare _hope_." He smiled again. "Did yeh get more gold than yer thievin' paws could carry?" He asked Lyndon with a warm smile.

"I certainly _did_! And a few pieces of armor and weapons that _might_ interest you, if you'd care to take a look later that is." Lyndon offered slyly.

"Did you find many, ah, _jewels_ Lyndon? Perhaps, eh eh eh, if you don't _mind_ of course, you could show me some of them?" Shen asked hopefully.

"Oh, just you wait, I've got _loads_." Lyndon said with a grin. "But I'm afraid I'll need a nap before we haggle out the specific _prices_ that I'd be willing to let them go for..." Lyndon continued airily.

"I do eh, eh, appreciate a good _thief_ such as yourself." Shen said with a secretive smile.

"You'll find none better than I!" Lyndon boasted proudly.

“I suspect, I would not.” Shen's eyes sparkled knowingly, but Lyndon did not think much of it.

"Aye and none more _humble_ I'd reckon. I'm interested in seeing those weapons, but you go on then, take your nap and a bath too, ya smell like a dead pack beast." Haedrig said.

"How I've _missed_ your kind words." Lyndon said with false sincerity.

"Yes, go enjoy yourself! Haedrig and Shen will find plenty of celebrating to do. I heard some soldier found a store of wine in the depths of the keep!" Shen stated excitedly.

"Sounds like you have the evening all planned out, do try to get Kormac in on it, Akarat knows the man needs to get a little _drunk_." Lyndon suggested, peeling his filthy gloves off and stuffing them in his pocket.

"Aye, maybe he'll finally give little Eirena a kiss!" Haedrig laughed.

"HA! That'd be rich!" Lyndon exclaimed, laughing. “And you'd better save some wine for _me_! In fact... maybe I should just take a bottle or five for myself right now...” Lyndon muttered thoughtfully, looking around for the crate.

"Don't you worry about that! Go on and get cleaned up, give me yer crossbow and I'll tune it for yeh." Haedrig said laughing and Lyndon unshouldered his weighty crossbow gratefully and handed it to the blacksmith. “Has she been working alright? Firing smooth?” Haedrig asked, picking an icicle off the handle.

“As _silk_. And it doesn't even make my hands cold!” Lyndon answered cheerfully, but then he grew more serious. “Haedrig... thank you, _really_. I was... really upset when I broke the crossbow my brother gave me, I'm grateful that you were able to salvage the handle from it. It really means a lot to me.” He finished awkwardly, staring at the dirty Keep floor. He hadn't been able to properly thank the blacksmith for what he had done, there hadn't been time. He was glad he'd gotten a second chance.

“Think nothing of it lad. It was the least I could do.” Haedrig answered warmly. "When ya see Jack, tell him to give me his weapons an' armor, I'll get them cleaned up and combat ready again for 'im."

"Will do. Though I hope we'll be getting a bloody _break_ from combat since Diablo's dead and all. Where is old Jackyboy anyway? I lost him in the crowd when we got inside." Lyndon asked, stretching his shoulders and popping his back, that crossbow did get heavy after a while and it had certainly been a _while_. He handed over the shoulder armor the blacksmith had tailored for him as well, feeling lighter already.

"He uh, er, he is talking to Tyrael! Yes that's it, I saw him just a moment ago! Or was that yesterday? No! I'm sure it was just now. I think." Shen offered.

"Ah. Clear and helpful as always, _thank_ you." Lyndon said with an exasperated roll of his eyes and went to look for the Demon Hunter.

“You are so _welcome_ Lyndon!”

=+=+=+=

Kormac made his way wearily to one of the tables set out near the armory stairs. He sat down heavily and breathed out a sigh of relief. His armor had never felt so heavy and oppressing, not even in Caldeum's burning sun. He leaned up his heavy shield, poured himself some water from a pitcher and drank deeply.

As they always did, almost without his permission, when he had a spare moment, his eyes searched out Eirena. He saw her, talking excitedly to a group of widows and their children, giving them a quick version of what had happened in the High Heavens. She waved her arms and moved her hands in an animated fashion while the women gasped and looked at each other in amazement. The children gazed, open mouthed up at her in wonder.

Kormac smiled. Jack's deeds would surely fall into legend. Then he supposed...since he had _also_ been there... that _he_ would be part of the legend as well. This thought awakened a boyish excitement in him he'd not felt for a long time. How he had _longed_ to be one of the heroes in the stories he had always heard as a child. The hero from Yorgie and the giants with his famous Blackfeather cloak, Aughild, the great and just king of Entsteig! And now it had really come true! His mother had always-

His _mother_.

Kormac's good mood faltered a bit. He wondered then about his Order and what he would _do_ . Jack had agreed to help him and he supposed that they would go to Westmarch to speak with the head of the Templar Order. He had a lot of questions and he would _demand_ the answers. If there was any evil to be found within his beloved Order he would flush it out and crush it!

Feeling a bit better, he gazed at Eirena again, watching her pretty smile and tried very hard not to think about just _how_ pretty it was.

=+=+=+=

Lyndon spotted Jack quickly, speaking with Tyrael as Shen had said. The talk looked serious and Lyndon moved closer, eavesdropping. The hunter's eyes were wild and he blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. He flinched at the slightest noises, people's voices or any other sudden sounds in the keep. He couldn't hear their conversation over the other soldiers and people talking though, much as he strained to try to.

Lyndon watched him with sharp eyes, observing his posture. The poor bastard didn't even know he was _beyond_ exhausted.

Jack left Tyrael and moved slowly toward the armory stairs, he looked like he might collapse at any moment. Lyndon should help him get downstairs and-

"Lyndon, perhaps you could help Jack downstairs?" Eirena said near his ear, echoing his thoughts and making him start, "He looks very tired. Kormac and I will help everyone get settled, and attend to any remaining wounded."

"I'm way ahead of you, and don't _sneak up_ behind me like that! You could give a man a heart attack!” He hissed in irritation, but then smiled at her, “Though, with a body like _yours_ , I know how we can get our hearts going-" he said slyly before he suddenly spotted Kormac across the room, staring at him with a look that could wilt flowers and spoil food.

"Right then, lots to do!" He said quickly before Eirena could reply and excused himself to go after the Demon Hunter.

Lyndon watched Jack walk on shaking legs toward the armory to presumably disappear into a room somewhere, and caught up to him easily, "Alright now, you look like you're ready to keel over, let me _help_ you." He said only loud enough for Jack to hear. He casually dragged the man's arm over his own shoulders, not missing the hunter's flinch as he touched him, and put a careful arm around his waist to help him walk, there was a low hiss of pain at that.

"Easy, easy." Lyndon murmured. “Are you hurt?” He asked him, concerned. Surely he couldn't have gotten out of that great mess in the sky without at least _some_ bruises. Nephalem or not.

"Thank you Lyndon, but I'm alright." Jack answered curtly, but made no move to get away from him.

"No you're _not_." Lyndon shot back quickly. Jack did not reply.

The way they walked together made them look more like brothers in arms, it was likely that no one would notice the Demon Hunter's drastic slip in strength. Lyndon thought it good to let everyone continue to see him as an untouchable champion, it could only lift their spirits _more_. Jack didn’t say anything else, but let much of his weight rest against the thief in uncharacteristic weakness. His body felt overly warm and he could _feel_ the man's heart racing, thumping heavily in his chest.

Gods, and Jack smelled _wretched_ , like burning _death_. Though, Lyndon probably didn't smell much better and he wanted to get clean desperately. It was likely that some of these stains would probably never come out. Then after that? He'd sleep for at least a week. He wished there were more women that weren't burdened with children or grief over dead husbands, he could really use some company in a few hours. But... while the thought was a pleasant one, he reasoned that even if there _were_ such girls around he'd have to at least wait until tomorrow. He was simply too tired right now, much as it pained him to think such a thing.

=+=+=+=

It was getting difficult to think now, his head was starting to hurt while his heart continued to race. He _knew_ he was calm, but his heart kept beating as if he were running. It made the dizziness worse.

He figured it _must_ have been all the health potions. He really had relied on them too much over the last few days. They were not a common item, but Bastion's keep had a large supply stored to keep the soldiers going. Jack knew that the magic imbued in the ruby liquid was able to heal minor wounds and keep exhaustion at bay for an extended period of time. Which was what Jack had really wanted them for, there simply hadn't been time for him to _sleep._

He was certainly paying for it now though, his body was crackling with nervous energy as if he'd had too much coffee. He wasn't sure what would happen now that he had stopped drinking them. A stupid mistake. Would he feel sick? Perhaps crave them like some helpless poppy flower addict? He didn't think so, but the thought was still unpleasant.

As many left as there were, they were no substitute for food. The people in the keep were slowly starving, he needed to help them get some food, but he knew that if went outside now, he would likely collapse and freeze to death. What a pathetic end _that_ would be.

He didn't want Lyndon's help, he wanted to deal with this on his own, but he was afraid that if he pushed him away he would simply fall to the floor. More people were trying to talk to him now, it was too much noise, he couldn't _focus_.

Lyndon's voice was suddenly loud near his ear, making them ring with his shouts. Gods the man was _loud_.

=+=+=+=+=

"Now now, he needs his beauty rest! His looks don’t just _happen_! Come on now, he saved two _worlds_ , let the man have a little peace and quiet. You can thank him tomorrow." Lyndon shouted over the throng of people.

One of the mothers, the strange fearless one with the two brats tells them they made Leah's old room ready with a hot water bath for Jack to "wash the filthy demon evil off." Jack looked deeply grateful. "Thank you, I've been wanting to... freshen up." He said softly. The woman merely nodded and gave Lyndon a strange look.

Captain Haile's voice came suddenly, booming over Lyndon's and causing heads to turn, "You heard him, clear out! Give our champion some room to bloody _breathe_ for Akarat's sake! You can bloody well chat him up _later_!"

Jack mumbled thanks, eyes half lidded. They _really_ needed to get downstairs. Lyndon had never seen him so exhausted.

"What are ya lad? How did you manage it?" Captain Haile whispered to the hunter in disbelief, ignoring his own orders.

"Ask me again tomorrow." Jack said with the ghost of a smile.

The captain smiled "Aye."

The admirers and well-wishers went back to their business. Cleaning up and helping the wounded and whatnot. Eirena waved at them from where she sat with a herd of brats, smiling. Lyndon overheard Kormac speaking to Captain Haile about trying to get a group together to go out for food. There might be some from the caravans that had been held up, if they were not completely ransacked there might be enough supplies to _feed_ everyone.

Gods, Lyndon really wanted to _eat_ . It was a toss up between which thing he wanted more, food or sleep. That fat, disgusting wretch in the larder had ruined _everything_ they'd had. Lyndon was surprised everyone had made it this far, there was barely anything left.

"Thank you Lyndon. I don’t... take complements very well." Jack whispered thankfully at the top of the armory stairs, interrupting his thoughts. "Of course, of course, we're ah, both tired and filthy. Better to be somewhere _quiet_ I'd say."

Navigating the simple eight steps or so of the staircase was almost like descending a mountain as the hunter quickly started to crash.

Jack clung to Lyndon's arm tightly, panting, while the scoundrel did his level best to hold him up. Both of their legs were shaking as they took every step slowly and carefully. Jack could hardly keep his balance and tightened his grip every few moments. "Gods, you're _exhausted_." Lyndon murmured worriedly, helping him walk on weak legs. He found he was supporting most of the hunter's weight and helping him stay upright.

"Slowly now, easy, just hold onto me. There's no rush... I _told_ you not to overdo it on those health potions. You can't just drink that many and feel _normal_ when they wear off." Lyndon said, "Haven't you ever been _drunk_ before? Everything in moderation I always say- well, actually I've _never_ said that!" He added with a laugh. Jack merely grunted.

“You should be grateful I'm here. _Surely_ you would have fallen down the stairs already.” Lyndon continued., a bit annoyed by Jack trying to play at being fine when he clearly _wasn't_. The silly idiot!

"And you smell like a corpse pit that someone vomited in then lit on fire just so you know." Lyndon added. "Thank the gods you're getting a bath, pretty soon no one will be able to tell you apart from a bloody _cadaver_ , I wish _I_ -"

"Lyndon." Jack murmured tiredly, interrupting him.

"Mmhm? What is it?" The thief asked.

"Shut up." Jack said evenly.

"Well, alright." Lyndon smiled anyway.

When they'd actually _slept_ , they'd been using rooms that were deeper in the keep, letting Leah sleep in the big room in the armory near the Soulstone and her mother, but now... Neither of them were there anymore and there was no sense letting such a large, warm and private room go unused. Lyndon could see Jack flagging. He probably felt just as upset as Lyndon did about Leah, likely more so, but there was no point in wasting the bed was there?

No one was in the armory when they got down the stairs, they were all celebrating in the main room. They entered the candlelit room Leah kept her belongings in. It made Lyndon feel a strong pang of sadness again and he found himself blinking back tears. He wished he wasn't so _tired_ , then he wouldn't be getting so upset like a _girl_ every other minute!

Adria would pay for this. That cold, wretched _bitch_.

Lyndon saw the tub in the corner emitting great plumes of steam. He'd never been so glad to see a bathtub in his _life._ He was suddenly very aware of how cold he was and stared at the hot water with extreme jealousy. Jack was trying to get away from him "I can- I can walk." He said in a soft voice. He made a noise of pain again while Lyndon leaned against the door frame, watching him closely. That bloody liar. He _was_ hurt.

"You're sure you can make it from here?" Lyndon asked seriously.

"Yes, thank you." Jack said, already removing his ravaged cloak. He should probably consider getting a new one...

"I'll come back to check on you in a little while then." Lyndon replied, turning to go back upstairs.

"I'm not a _child_." Jack said gruffly.

"I know _that_ , I just have no desire to remain as filthy as I am. No woman's going to want to _touch_ this mess, roguish good looks can only take one so far.” Lyndon said indicating himself. “I intend to take advantage of the water too!" He countered.

"I doubt the water will be very clean after I'm done, but you're welcome to it." Jack said closing the door. Lyndon heard the lock slide into place. He turned back and climbed the stairs wearily, it took him almost as long as the initial descent did. He weaved around soldiers and deposited himself next to their belongings and Cain's old tome gratefully. It felt good to sit.

He closed his eyes, resting them for just a _moment_. The book was making low sounds like it sometimes did. Lyndon used to find them disturbing, but now they were a comforting reminder of Deckard Cain, and he found the softly speaking voices almost soothing.

He dropped off to sleep in under a minute, head tipped back against their stash of possessions.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this much at all. I'm sure it's loaded with mistakes, but I was eager to post something! I've also come to realize I'm pretty bad at coming up with titles... oh well.. >_>; Hope you guys enjoy! I'll get more up soon, Not sure how many chapters this will be, probably at least 2.
> 
> A note on the disembodied voice: 
> 
> "Trag'Oul a guardian of Sanctuary, by most accounts, aligned with neither the Heavens nor the Hells. Although information is scarce, he reportedly aided Uldyssian and the Edyrem* during the Sin War, intent on keeping our world free from both angelic and demonic influences. The Books of Kalan describe this mysterious entity as a celestial dragon whose body resembles a constellation of stars."  
> \- Deckard Cain 
> 
> *Normal humans, until their latent abilities were awakened by the Nephalem known as Uldyssian.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack does a silly thing and conceals his injuries, and everyone gets upset.

_Jack. A word with a great variety of meanings and applications, all traceable to the common use of the word as a by-name of a man. “Jack” is a shortened form of the name “Jackin” which is derived from the name “John.” There is also a theory that it is Celtic in origin, meaning “healthy, strong and full of vital energies.” Whatever its origin, it is most often used as a general term for any man of the common people._

-'Encyclopedia Britannica' and 'English words of British Origin'

 

_Jack be nimble,_   
_Jack be quick,_   
_Jack jump over_   
_the candlestick._

\- A Nursery Rhyme c.1815

 

 

 

"Lyndon?"

The thief jerked awake to see Eirena smiling gently at him with Kormac frowning disapprovingly by her side. The Keep looked a lot emptier then it did when he'd first sat down, only a few snoring soldiers remained along with the wounded. Where had everyone gone? How long had he fallen asleep for?

"Was- did I? _What_?" He babbled at her, rubbing his face. She frowned at him as he struggled to wake himself up, feeling incredibly groggy.

"Perhaps you'd like to go to bed?" She offered.

"Go to _bed_?!” Kormac bellowed, as he was _wont_ to do. “He should be helping the rest of us get food for these poor people, not _lazing_ about." Kormac continued irritably."There's no time to rest just yet!"

"Now Kormac, it wouldn't do for us collapse out on the battlefield would it? We should _all_ be resting. At least until tomorrow. No one is awake to _assist_ us after all." Eirena explained sweetly, “We can last one more night.” Kormac immediately deflated which Lyndon found highly amusing. Hah! _Whipped_ already!

"How long did I sleep?" Lyndon finally managed to ask without sounding completely delirious. “I suspect you might benefit from some _lazing_ about Kormac, perhaps it will improve your wretched mood.” He added sourly. He should have known Kormac would stop being nice to him as soon as the thrill of their victory wore off.

"Were you going to check on Jack again?" Eirena asked, interrupting Kormac's indignant sputtering. Sometimes he suspected that she _could_ read minds. “I think you were only asleep for a half hour or so.”

"That long?" It had felt like only a moment. He got to his feet and stretched, feeling cold, sore, and impossibly tired.

"Yes, I suppose I should go make sure he hasn't bloody drowned in _my_ bathwater.” He said lightly, “Then I'd _never_ get clean.”

“Gods, you are insufferable.” Kormac hissed at him.

“So you've said before.” Lyndon called back as he headed toward the armory. Kormac and Eirena followed, stopping at Haedrig's forge to remove their heavier armor. The blacksmith was nowhere in sight, Lyndon supposed he had either gone to bed, or with Shen somewhere to drink.

His stomach rumbled and he had a sudden thought,“Oh!” Lyndon shouted, spinning on his heel to face the Templar. “I had an _idea_!” He continued brightly.

“Oh _great_...” Kormac muttered, working at removing his weighty chest armor with Eirena's help to lean it up against Haedrig's forge to be cleaned later.

“Do you remember the dead pack beasts we saw out on the battlefield? I was thinking... perhaps, because it's so damned _cold_ out there, that the meat might still be good. And we could go get some and bring it back!” Lyndon explained hopefully.

Kormac looked at Eirena then back to the thief, thinking. “Perhaps... that _might_ work... if the meat is frozen and uncontaminated.” He replied thoughtfully.

“That is a very good idea Lyndon!” Eirena said with a smile. “We can go out first thing tomorrow!”

“Ahh, not _all_ of my ideas are bad eh, Templar?” He said with a wink and a grin, and headed down the armory staircase.

Kormac merely sighed in irritation.

=+=+=+=+=

For a long time there had been only numbness, but now there was _pain_.

Jack stripped slowly, groaning in agony, peeling off gore soaked armor, piece by piece. His crossbows were hung by their loops of leather with great care on the edge of the bed post. The rest of his bags, quivers, and pouches were piled in a chair, these were the only things he was careful with, the rest of it he dropped rather unceremoniously to the floor. Much of his armor was horribly damaged and _sticky._ What should have been _protecting_ him was practically shredded. He lamented this briefly, upset that he would have to get new things tailored.

The table where Leah's books and possessions were still sitting caught his eye. The candles were lit, lighting the room gently, her diary even lay open, as if she had just been writing in it, the pens scattered about. Feeling weary, he closed his eyes against the sight and turned away.

The leather and fabric pulled painfully at cuts and scrapes, dried blood, and all manners of slowly rotting entrails sticking it to his skin. Skin, that felt disgusting beneath so many layers of grime. There were patches of dried blood and dirt that covered his body in irregular mosaic patterns. At the moment, he couldn't tell what was a bruise and what was merely filth, but he supposed it didn't really matter, it all hurt anyway. Swallowing back the pain as best he could, he tried to catalog his injuries, but tallying _anything_ in his head only made it ache worse. There were some nasty burns on his legs, the backs of his hands and one side of his forehead and cheek. He couldn't remember when he had gotten them, but he was fairly certain they hadn't been there a day ago.

Diablo then. His armor was so ruined he was lucky he hadn't _died_.

Jack fished around in the pocket of his cloak that had been draped over a chair and got the little brown bat out. It flew into the room freely and wedged itself into the bookcase. Jack assumed his ferrets had hidden themselves in Lyndon's bag again and didn't worry too much about them. He had not seen the raven for some time, perhaps it was gorging itself on the battlefield with its brothers and sisters.

Despite all the carnage he had seen in his life, the thought made him feel just the slightest bit ill.

Naked now, Jack put his hands on the edge of the bath, breathing in and out slowly before he moved. It was getting harder to breathe, the pain was very bad, worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. He closed his eyes and tried to focus long enough to make some of it fall into the background, as he usually did when injured. Gradually identifying each source and willing it into something more manageable. It was only a partial success.

He climbed over the rim carefully, then sank into the hot water all at once. A stuttered moan slipped out of him before he could stop it. Gods, it _hurt_. Tense muscles unclenched in the sudden heat and despite how good it felt to finally be properly warm, the more practical side of him wished it were an ice bath, it was better for sore muscles and prevented swelling.

He forced himself to relax by inches, trembling all over. The pain was getting worse by the minute. Jack observed the shadows that drifted off his shoulders like steam with detached interest. He would have to find a way to make that go away.

His ribs hurt, he gently felt where most of the discomfort was coming from and yelped slightly as the exploratory touch became excruciating. He blinked black spots out of his vision and concluded that at least one bone was _definitely_ broken, every breath was stabbing misery, like slowly gouging knives piercing into him. He fought the urge to shallow his breathing, that was how one drowned in their own lung fluid. A slow, lingering death.

The hunter cursed himself for his carelessness, if he'd been a little _faster_ , Diablo wouldn't have slammed him into the ground... Or maybe it had happened when an Oppressor had charged him? He wasn't sure now. Jack vividly remembered the piercing sensation of something _giving_ in his chest, but couldn't place when or how it had occurred. He was very glad the bat had not been crushed and killed, it had been in his pocket yesterday, he was certain of it.

Jack sat very still for long minutes, head down on his knees, soaking up the warmth and breathing as deeply as he dared. The heat made his head fuzzy so he quickly washed himself before he became too lightheaded to do so. Scrubbing with soap revealed skin he'd almost forgotten the color of, and many other rather interesting colors that mottled his body, bruises in varying stages of healing.

Cleaning the skin over his damaged ribcage was a new level of torment he didn't think was possible to experience. He'd never broken a rib before, safe to say it was the worst pain he'd ever felt.

That done, Jack's hands were trembling and suddenly he felt much too hot. He wanted to get out of the water, but he wasn't done yet. He dunked his head carefully, wincing at the heat and then worked soap into the stringy, filthy mess of his hair.

The water that ran off his head when he rinsed it was nearly black with dirt and ash and old blood. He was glad his hair was dark so the filth could at least blend in. He should really just cut it, then this would be less of a problem. He deliriously wondered if Eirena was any good at cutting hair, not that he particularly _cared_ how it looked afterward. Lyndon was always preening himself like a proud rooster, perhaps _he_ would be good at it. Jack found this funny for some reason and laughed a bit, but stopped immediately as the pain in his chest became too much to bear.

Jack didn't linger in the bath, he felt over heated and his chest ached from his heartbeat that had not yet slowed itself. He groaned deep in his throat as he got out of the wooden tub, every movement producing worse and worse pain. He stood very still and waited for the room to stop rocking like a boat in turbulent waters, before he knelt down to dig through his spare clothes.

The bathwater wasn't clear anymore, but it was hot and would probably still be alright if Lyndon was really as desperate as he made himself out to be. Jack hoped the other man would not be long, he really wanted to lie down. Though he supposed Lyndon wouldn't care if Jack fell asleep while he was in here. The hunter preferred to sleep away from others, he didn't like to be so vulnerable when other people were close. But he found that at the moment, he didn't care if the entire Keep stared at him while he slept, he was just so _tired_.

He pulled on some clean pants, savoring the coolness of the fabric against his burning, aching skin. Wincing and breathing hard though his nose, he managed to get his spare tunic on, but left it open, exposing his chest. The wound on his ribcage leaked blood and he pressed a square of damp fabric against it and closed his eyes against the pain.

=+=+=+=+=+

Back downstairs, after another physically draining descent of the stairway, Lyndon knocked on the door lightly and waited a few moments. When he didn't receive an answer right away, he felt a slight amount of worry. He shouldn't have joked about Jack drowning earlier... Perhaps he was already sleeping? Well, it wasn't like he couldn't just pick the lock and take a bath _anyway_. Jack very likely wouldn't even wake up, then Lyndon might be able get a look at the _spoils_ he'd kept on his person. He suddenly thought better of going through the man's things, remembering the generous gift the man had given him.

The lock clicked, startling him and the door cracked open revealing one turquoise eye, peering out critically, then the door opened wide.

"Hey." Lyndon offered in greeting. Jack stepped aside to let him in.

Getting a good look at him now that he was clean, the scoundrel couldn't quite decide if Jack looked better or impossibly _worse_ then he did before. His hair was dripping and he smelled much better. But his now clean skin was covered in bruises and cuts and his face was ghostly pale with dark circles beneath his eyes. A sort of black smoke hung about him, and Lyndon recognized it from when the Demon Hunter had previously been in physical danger. Something within him activated it... and it seemed to do _something_ for him.

The scoundrel had never really asked about the more _unusual_ abilities Jack had, preferring to politely ignore them.

Gods, he looked half _dead_. But... he didn't appear to be suffering too badly, so maybe he _was_ alright? The thief reasoned that he probably looked so poorly because he was tired. Jack would probably be fine after he slept a while. Lyndon closed the door behind him and carefully removed his worn, gore splattered duster. He wondered if it was even possible to clean it, he hoped so. He really _liked_ this coat.

The black tunic the hunter was wearing was open at the front and Jack held a cloth to his side, it was a little bloody, but it didn't look too bad to Lyndon. He'd definitely had worse. He was damned _lucky_ to have gotten through all this with just one wound and a decidedly grim rainbow of bruises on every inch of skin that Lyndon could see.

Lyndon was lucky too, lucky to even be _alive_.

"Are you hurt badly?" Lyndon asked quietly, inquiring anyway just to be sure.

"Broken rib, it'll be alright, it was a clean break." Jack answered softly, kneeling down to wind bandages around his chest with slightly unsteady hands.

Gods, a broken rib? That sounded a bit _more_ serious... and really, he just wasn't looking very good at all. Much too pale.

"You look a bit... _peaky_.” The thief continued, “Do you, ah, do you need any _help_? Do you want me to get Eirena... or-or Kormac?" Lyndon asked hesitantly, setting his amulet and rings aside carefully on the bookshelf.

"No." A firm reply.

"Right then." The scoundrel muttered, expecting an answer like that.

The hunter got shakily back to his feet with a wince and went suddenly still, just sort of _staring_ at Lyndon.

In the candlelight, the ever present dark circles under his eyes seemed more pronounced than before, making Jack's face appear gaunt and skull-like. And he was just _standing_ there like the risen dead and staring at him, or rather _through_ him and swaying like a late night drunk. Gods, when was the damned fool going to _sleep?_ Nothing was stopping him, just go to bed already! Lyndon was just about to open his mouth to ask if he was alright when the hunter spoke first.

"Lyndon...?" Jack murmured wearily. His voice sounded _wrong_ in a way the thief couldn't put his finger on.

"Hmm?" The thief answered, eyes glued to the Demon Hunter. He was breathing heavily and a light sheen of sweat was beginning to form under his eyes and nose, catching the light slightly.

"I'm _tired_... I think I'm going to lie down." He appeared to bow beneath a sudden wave of exhaustion then, and sank towards the floor. “Jack!” Lyndon rushed forward to catch him around the shoulders and Jack went down hard on his knees, but at least he didn't crack his skull off the stone floor.

His eyes were rather glassy and Lyndon tried to help him to his feet as best he could. "The floor's not really the best _place_ for that." Lyndon said with a weak laugh.“Come on now, _up_ we go. You've got to help me, you're _heavier_ than you look...” But Jack didn't respond, he merely tilted and collapsed against him, suddenly limp.

“Jack?” The thief called, worried now and shaking him a bit. He was unconscious, and was breathing very shallowly and rapidly. Lyndon felt a sudden, sharp needle of fear.

This was much worse than he thought. _Damn it to Hell!_

"Ei... Eirena!" He called for the enchantress, before he remembered that she was probably still upstairs with Kormac. He needed to find them both _right away_. Lyndon knew that he was simply too tired to try to move the Demon Hunter, and also thought that he likely _shouldn't_ move him, he had no idea how badly he was hurt.

He laid Jack down carefully on the floor and left to get help, fear enabling him to run when, a few minutes ago, he had trouble even going down the stairs.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Kormac bent over the Demon Hunter, examining him while Lyndon hovered anxiously in the background. At first glance, Jack looked _very_ bad. Eirena had run to get a bowl with which to conjure some clean water.

"He said he had a broken rib." Lyndon offered, chewing his thumbnail and pacing with nervous energy.

The Templar sliced away the carelessly wrapped bandages and gently felt the bones. This produced a wretched moan of pain, but Jack didn't wake up. Eirena returned quickly with an armful of supplies and laid them on the floor carefully, then immediately conjured a warm fire on the cold logs in the fireplace. _Bless_ her, it was warmer and he could see much better now. Kormac straightened and rolled his sleeves up.

"Either he _lied_ to you...” He addressed the thief, “Or in his _exhaustion_ he simply hadn't realized how badly he'd been hurt, he has four broken ribs and three cracked ones." Kormac finished evenly. The scoundrel paled and cursed under his breath, “Daft _bastard_.” and continued to wear a hole in the ancient carpet. Lyndon had wasted valuable time, Kormac concluded. It was easy to see in an instant the hunter was bad off. He should have gotten help much sooner.

But... perhaps it hadn't been that easy to see at _all_. Kormac was more angry at himself than at Lyndon for not noticing his friend's distress either. The man's pain tolerance must have been astronomical to not only continue _moving_ in his condition, but to hide it from him so completely. _Him_! A Templar trained in the healing magics! Men with bones broken like this were not supposed to be able to run or bend. Jack would have done both while killing that wretched abomination. And this didn't even count the burns, cuts and bruises he could see.

Kormac thought briefly on what Captain Haile had asked the hunter, _“What do they make people out of where you're from?”_ By the light. _What_ indeed!

“What _is_ this black smoke?” Kormac questioned, watching wisps of it drift from the Demon Hunter's prone body.

“I don't know, it started happening some time ago. When he was hurt it would just... _appear_.” Lyndon tried to explain. Kormac nodded and decided to ignore it for the time being and focus on what he _did_ know.

He observed the racing, thready pulse, beating in the man's neck. Dehydrated. He needed water.

“He needs water.” Kormac said suddenly to Eirena. He was glad she was here, she wasn't bad at healing herself and he could use an extra hand. He tried to ignore the scoundrel, puffing and grumbling in concern behind him.

“I'll get it.” Lyndon quickly offered, but Eirena conjured some in a cup before he could do anything. The thief appeared a bit crestfallen, but Kormac could not pay him any mind.

Between the two of them, they managed to get Jack to drink.

“Do you want me to get more?” Lyndon offered again, fretting.

“I want you to wait outside! I need _quiet_!” Kormac finally snapped at him.

“He is only worried Kormac.” Eirena indicated calmly.

“I'm not _worried_!” The thief interrupted. “I'm just...” He went very quiet and looked deeply frustrated.

Kormac ignored the both of them and rubbed his palms together briskly to kick start the energies he would need. After a moment, he creating a small light that brought warmth to his hands. He held them both out just above the wound and visualized the bones coming back together as vividly as he could. He had not recently reviewed his anatomy books, and had seen far too many non-human rib cages as of late, so picturing what was supposed to be in a _human_ body was slightly difficult.

He sensed something move and there was a gasp of pain from Jack. He didn't seem to be fully unconscious, but he wasn't really awake either.

"What are you doing?" Lyndon questioned bright eyed. "Healing him, _obviously_. Knitting bones back together is _delicate_ work, please step back!" Kormac urged him. There was another cry of pain, worse than the first. It was a miserable sound to hear. The light in his hands was getting warmer, like slowly heating metal, but Gods, at least it was working.

"You're _hurting_ him." Lyndon accused angrily, folding his arms tightly in distress.

"Eirena?" Kormac murmured, "Yes... I'm trying." She acknowledged, lightly resting her fingers on the Demon Hunter's head, closing her eyes.

"He's in a lot of pain, but there's nothing I can do about it until I'm done.” Kormac explained for the thief's benefit, hoping to stop his inquiries. “Eirena will do all she can to ease it.” Lyndon backed away and started pacing again.

Another wrenched, gasping cry echoed in the room as he worked, he could feel his magic working better now _._ What the Order had taught him, despite his fears about their unknown motivations, their techniques _worked_. It was an exhausting magic though, it relied heavily on the user's own energy. He was already very tired and could feel sweat forming on his brow and running into his eyes, but he made no move to wipe it away. Jack had saved them all and now he desperately needed his help. Kormac had not been there for the final fight, but for this he would give Jack everything he had. His all would be the _least_ of what he owed the Demon Hunter.

He tried not to look at Eirena's beautiful, porcelain hands, her eyes closed in concentration as she used her magic to lessen the hunter's pain. He could not afford a slip in concentration. Kormac released a breath as another bone reformed itself. There was more than one break on each bone and it was incredibly tiring to heal. This kind of healing magic, mending broken bones, was the most difficult to do and the one he had the least practice with, but he would try his best.

Gods, Jack was not like them. To bear such _pain_. He was not like them at all. Was this what it meant to be a Nephalem? No one could deny what he was. No normal human could have accomplished such a feat.

Kormac could see the scoundrel pacing, and chewing on his fingernails like a sheep in a grass field, in his peripheral vision, and decided he had had _enough_.

"I cannot focus with you hovering about! This is very difficult! If you care one _jot_ to help this man, you will _go_ _outside_!" He shouted at him, his tone demanding no argument.

"But-" Lyndon began.

" _Outside_! There's _nothing_ you can do now!" Kormac exclaimed in frustration.

Lyndon's face hardened and he glared at the Templar angrily, though his eyes had worry and _hurt_ in them as well. Kormac felt much too tired to feel any kind of guilt.

"It's alright Lyndon, don't worry, he'll be fine." Eirena said gently to comfort him. The thief softened and left, closing the door heavily behind him.

"You should not have shouted at him, he is only concerned for Jack's well being." Eirena admonished, not looking up from her task.

"Probably just concerned about getting his bloody _payment_." Kormac muttered angrily, exhausted by the magic. His hands felt _so_ hot, like he had been holding them over a stove.

"A few weeks ago, I would have agreed with you, but we both know that is _not_ true." Eirena retorted a little sharply.

Kormac didn't reply, a little sheepish that she was angry with him. Over that _degenerate_ of all things.

"They are good friends, you do not watch them together." Eirena continued.

"I've seen Jack get angry at him _plenty_ of times." Kormac shot back.

"But you do not watch them _talk_ to one another when there is nothing to fight." She chided.

Kormac grumbled. He had once, some time ago. She was right, they did get along surprisingly well. Somehow. But that did not mean that thief wasn't an annoyance and a distraction he didn't need at the moment!

They worked in relative silence for nearly half an hour more. The cries of pain had stopped eventually with Eirena's help. The bones were mostly back together now, but they were weak, he worked to strengthen them, but he was afraid that to heal them completely would take much more than he had left in him to give. Jack's breathing had thankfully eased and deepened. He was finally out of immediate danger.

"You should stop now and try again tomorrow, you're very tired." Eirena commented to him. "He'll be alright now, most of the damage has been fixed. He can sleep, as should you, and I can heal some of the lesser wounds."

"Yes, that is... wise." Kormac conceded. They wrapped the hunter's torso with bandages. Though they were _mostly_ fixed, the bones would be a little fragile and painful for a while until Kormac had the strength to finish. He wanted to make sure they were protected until then. He lifted Jack off the floor easily and carried him to the bed, and they covered him with blankets and furs. As he straightened, Kormac felt his head swim a little and stood very still, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Eirena sat down next to the bed and held her hands out over the Demon Hunter, eyes closed, she had not seen his moment of weakness.

She looked so lovely. Kormac sighed, he supposed he should see where Lyndon went off to. There were three more beds someone had set up in here, he supposed they were for _all_ of them.

Kormac opened the door to the armory, shivering in the colder air. He spied Lyndon immediately, curled up under a flimsy blanket in the hay next to a pile of broken swords. He must really have been worried, to stay here when he could have gone off to sleep somewhere else. Somewhere _warmer_. Kormac sighed, feeling a bit guilty for shouting at him. The Templar's breath ghosted in front of him, it was terribly cold outside the bedroom. He could not allow Lyndon to sleep out here.

Kormac approached him and shook him a little."Wake up scoundrel, it's not warm enough to sleep here." There was no response and Kormac rattled his shoulder again, but he didn't stir. "Get up, thief." Still nothing.

Kormac sighed heavily, feeling deeply put upon, and spoke quieter, kinder, "Lyndon, you _can't_ sleep here." Lyndon moaned slightly, and mumbled, "I _didn't_ do it..." and curled up in a tighter ball, still not awake. Kormac considered hitting him to wake him up, but the usual desire to punish the man was not there.

"By my faith." Kormac muttered to himself and hauled the thief up, shaking him roughly. Lyndon woke then, disoriented and shivering in his tiredness.

“What... are you _doing_?” He mumbled irritably, blinking and squinting at him.

“Come. Bed.” Kormac ground out.

“I was... I _was_ in bed, you... dumb _... bastard._ ” He mumbled sleepily. Kormac grit his teeth and ignored him, steering him back to the room. He was obviously a bit delirious and Kormac would give him a free pass. _This_ time.

“Jacky... he's okay?” Lyndon asked quieter, tone soft and worried.

“He'll be fine.” Kormac replied as kindly as he could manage.

“Good.” Lyndon finished tiredly, then spoke no more.

Kormac practically dragged the thief into the room, the man could hardly walk in a straight line. He got Lyndon inside and sat him on one of the beds, the scoundrel blinked blearily at him and made no move to remove his boots, so Kormac did it for him. Not stopping there, he pulled the filthier clothes off, grimacing at the smell of old blood and demon remains clinging to the stained garments. Kormac didn't quit until he'd gotten everything but the man's pants off. He wasn't nearly as filthy beneath the fabric. Normally, it would be _more_ than the thief deserved, but Kormac conceded that the man had earned at _least_ this. For once. And the bed would be much cleaner if he didn't sleep in those soiled clothes. He pushed Lyndon to lie down. He was asleep before Kormac could finish piling blankets and furs on him.

Satisfied, he went to the other side of the room and sat heavily on one of the other beds, feeling shaky and weak.

"Is Lyndon well?" Eirena asked, not looking up from the healing spell she was casting over a burn on the side of Jack's face.

"Aye, he is just... tired." Kormac answered wearily. "He was sleeping out in the hay with the swords. It's not warm enough out there." Kormac continued absently, undoing his own boots.

"That was very kind of you Kormac." Eirena said, looking at him with a smile, Kormac flushed a bit under her praise. " _Well_ , I, um, I may have _misjudged_ him. Jack trusts him... So I will try to as well. Despite his... shortcomings." Kormac still wasn't sure if he'd forgiven Lyndon for stealing his amulet, despite the fact that he'd had Shen set magic gems set into it. He'd still stolen it a _second_ time! Though, thinking about it, he supposed the second time may merely have been a harmless prank so the thief could amuse himself.

"He certainly proved himself today, that he cares about more than just gold and women." Kormac added. Lying down on the bed and pulling the blankets up. His head felt heavy.

"Yes, he has a brother that is in a Kingsport prison cell that he loves and misses very much." Eirena explained thoughtfully. “He sends most of his gold to his brother's family, but his brother's wife _hates_ him, but he is still in love with her and doesn't want her and her children to go hungry.” She finished lightly, then smiled at Kormac sweetly.

"I-I didn't _know_ that!" Kormac sputtered, shocked.

“You did not _ask_.” She answered simply.

He turned his head and looked at Lyndon lying there asleep. Seeing him in a new light. He had never _realized_...

Eirena was smiling so prettily, her face was dazzling, he tried not to think about how _pretty_ she was, it was important to focus on his faith. He valued her as a friend, but sometimes when she smiled at him like that, his defenses would crumble and he would remember how much he _loved_ her.

He swallowed and blinked tiredly, his eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each.

"You can rest now Kormac, I will wake you in a little while." Eirena called to him.

“But, you must be-” he tried to argue, he knew she was as _tired_ as he was.

“I will sit up a little longer.” She said, but Kormac couldn't hear her very well, everything was going fuzzy.

He slept heavily, barely moving at all.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Lyndon woke slowly, some time later, feeling disoriented and vaguely nauseous. He blinked slightly in the warm, fire lit room. He didn't remember falling asleep here. The thief tried to turn his head to see where he had ended up but found that he was so incredibly sore that he couldn't move. There wasn't any _single_ source of pain, just about everything hurt. The only _good_ sensation he could feel was warmth, and he was incredibly grateful for that.

He couldn't feel his shirt, most of his armor and clothes had been removed. Had he been robbed? He lay there limply, trying to decide if he cared or not. He didn't know whether it was day or night, it was dark in the room but for the fire.

It felt so good to be warm. It felt so good to _lie down_.

He suddenly remembered that he'd had the most _ridiculous_ dream. They'd all been running around through a beautiful field with trees and lily padded ponds and there had been pink and purple _unicorns_ attacking them. Lyndon wanted to smile at the memory, but he didn't want to move any muscles. They'd just killed those fat, silly unicorns like it was _normal._ He remembered Jack showing him a map of the place that looked as though a child had drawn it, it was covered in stars and rainbows and smiles.

The hunter had been serious as always as he had slaughtered lumbering, pink stuffed bears and smashed open gaily wrapped presents to find hoarded loot. Kormac had hacked away fiercely at angry pink daisies and Eirena had pushed on smiling clouds that shot gold everywhere at a touch. Lyndon decided that he was never going to go this long without sleep ever again. Clearly, it made him delirious. He still felt wretchedly exhausted, but everything hurt so much he wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep again.

Someone was standing over him, but everything was little blurry. Whoever they were rested a small, cool hand on his head that was immediately soothing, and at the touch, much of the pain dissolved away. He sighed in relief.

“Go back to sleep Lyndon.” The voice said softly. It was Eirena.

"Mmm." She didn't need to talk him into it, he fell back to sleep almost immediately.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumping over candlesticks was a form of fortune telling and a sport. Good luck was said to be signaled by clearing a candle without extinguishing the flame.  
> -The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes
> 
> It was also from this nursery rhyme that I named my Demon Hunter. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyndon tries not to feel useless while everyone else does important things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay, had to work and had a bit of writer's block that I cured with wine and a replay of Acts 3 and 4. This chapter is very slice of life and a bit shorter than the others, I hope it's not too boring. I tried to focus on the thoughts and feelings of the characters. Not much from Jack, sorry, he's sleeping. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_“It's not time to worry yet.”_  
― Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_

 

 

Eirena worked quietly, healing as many of Jack's injuries as she could before she felt too weary to keep it up. She thought there might have been more under the clothes he had put on, but she would not go so far as to _strip_ him. Her face turned red at the thought.

While she worked, she thought about Leah. Eirena had never cried so hard as when Leah had died, the New Tristram native had been her very best friend in this unfamiliar era, they had talked about anything and everything, and now Eirena was alone, the only girl in a group of the strangest men she had ever met. She had never missed her friend and her sisters as much as she did at this moment.

Blinking back tears that blurred her vision in front of her, she supposed that she should be grateful to still have such wonderful friends, not to mention that one of them was powerful enough to save their entire world so that she might continue to live upon it. She gazed at Jack, curled on his uninjured side facing her. His hair was damp, thrown around his head in a dark halo and beginning to dry in the warm room. His face was calm now, the grimace and lines of burden he carried on his features daily were smoothed in the relaxation induced by deep sleep. He looked much younger this way. Eirena realized that he couldn't have been that many years older than herself.

At first, she had been a little afraid of him, he had seemed so harsh and unfeeling, but then when he had spoken to her, he had been so incredibly kind that she had warmed to him immediately. Now the enchantress thought of him as an older brother. When she had told him so, asking if it was alright of her to think of him that way, he had said it was fine, but had looked very sad for a moment. She had wondered why, before he had embarrassingly insisted that he would not give her any advice about _men_ , which she had found utterly mortifying, enough to wash the thoughts of his sadness clean out of her mind.

Now, she thought about it again, and wondered what secret pain he kept inside that fueled his need for revenge, and had driven him to a crippling exhaustion in his bottomless thirst for it. She also contemplated from what source his incredible dark powers divined from. It was obvious that he was more demon than angel in his skills, but his heart was as good as any angel. Eirena only hoped that his hate and sadness did not consume him. She worried for him more with each passing day, and recently had found that she wasn't the _only_ one.

Lyndon regularly repulsed and frustrated her, his forward attempts at flirting were some of the most shameless she had ever seen from any man (living or dead), and could hardly believe his incredible persistence, even when she had practically threatened his life. She _did_ think he had handsome features, but his arrogance and sleazy ways frequently made him ugly to her eyes. He wasn't really her type anyways.

At least, this was how she had felt about the thief for a long time since meeting him. Now though, she felt much differently.

Eirena observed the tentative friendship that had developed between the scoundrel and the Demon Hunter and, because Jack had felt Lyndon was worth his time, the enchantress had tried to see him in a new light as well. At the very least, he had stopped trying so hard to win her affections and spent most of his time hanging around the Hunter. Over time, she started to see what Jack saw in him. Someone who was very lonely, desperately wanted friends, and _hated_ himself intensely.

She remembered when Lyndon had broken his crossbow and Jack had been furious at him for being careless in the High Heavens, the thief had been so distraught that he had actually _cried_. She hadn't ever thought Lyndon could be so sensitive. Curious and concerned, later, she had asked Jack what had upset him so, as she didn't think he would get so worked up over the Demon Hunter merely being _angry_ with him (because that happened much too frequently to affect Lyndon in such a way.) Jack had cautiously told her about the thief's brother and the sad circumstances of his life, his brother had given him the crossbow and Lyndon had felt guilty over breaking the only thing he had from his sibling. He harbored much self hatred over his brother's imprisonment and the rejection of the woman he had loved.

After that, Eirena had changed her mind about Lyndon and had been much more tolerant of his annoying behavior, even when he teased Kormac and embarrassed him. And even just hours ago, she saw how much the thief cared about Jack, more than any of them had realized. There were many sides to the scoundrel, he was a very strange man. He too slept deeply, safe in bed by the fireplace. He hadn't moved either, not since he woke briefly, but she had made sure he went back to sleep quickly.

Now if only she could convince _Kormac_ that Lyndon was not as bad as he seemed....

She looked over at the Templar, watching him sleep almost as heavily as the Demon Hunter did. Jack had told her recently that Kormac was in love with her, and the memory made her face heat up. Kormac didn't seem to be so interested... and he had his vows that he spoke of frequently that would prevent him acting on any such attractions. She never really noticed that he liked her as much as Jack said he did, she wasn't sure if she even really believed it. Despite these troubling thoughts, Kormac was her closest friend after Leah and now she valued his company more than ever.

Eirena thought about The Prophet again, and wondered if the dying angel she had seen in Heaven had really been he. She couldn't be sure and worried that she might never know. But if he still lived... wouldn't he have tried to find her? Wouldn't he have tried to speak to her about the fulfillment of her mission? _Everything_ she had trained for? She sighed a bit, she wouldn't trouble herself with such thoughts now. There was still so much to be happy for.

The enchantress rested her hand on the Demon Hunter's head a moment, Jack felt warm, perhaps _too_ warm, but she was not sure and would not disturb the poor Templar to ask. She wasn't as good at healing and detecting injuries as he was, but she did well enough. Jack's other, more minor wounds were healing nicely in the wake of her efforts and she thought he would be alright in time. Currently, the hunter slept like one dead, he did not stir at her touch, no dreams, he did not wince from pain, even the possible fever did not change his stillness. He was _very_ worn down, and she felt sorry for him.

She felt tired too, but alright. Sleeping for fifteen hundred years had its benefits. She'd take a nap when Kormac got up in a little while, for now she would sit here and keep watch over them all.

After a time, Lyndon and Kormac started to snore, and she smiled, glad to not be alone.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Jack wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if he was awake for brief periods. He saw blurs of color and heard familiar, frantic and concerned voices between slipping in and out of pleasant darkness. Time passed by this way, viscous and sticky. There was terrible pain, but eventually it was pushed to the background, ignored in favor of the release of sleep. The next time he was aware of anything specific it was quiet and dark but for firelight, but again he did not fully surface, much too tired and sore to do anything but lie still. He slept again after that, deeper now, and for the first time in many years, didn't dream at all.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Lyndon felt much better upon waking, almost like himself again, if a little sluggish and ravenously hungry. Shivering outside of his nest of blankets, he grabbed the topmost one and wrapped himself in it before getting out of bed. He found that someone had washed and folded his, Jack, and Kormac's clothes, (at least the ones that were _intact_ enough to still be considered clothes) which pleased him immensely, but he would not dare put them on until he had a minute to get clean. And next to the clothes, he saw a plate of _food!_ Meat and vegetables! His mouth watered immediately and he hurriedly ate with a desperation he hadn't felt since he was a boy living in the Kingsport slums.

After a few minutes of hurriedly shoveling food into his mouth, and trying to stave off the hiccups, he started to wonder where the food had even come from and what the Hell _time_ it was anyway. Finishing his plate off quickly (Gods, he'd never eaten so fast) he managed to find a working clock hidden on the bookshelf and, after being pathetically startled by the chirping of a brown bat, he realized he had slept most of the day away and it was now sometime in the early evening.

There were two more beds set up he noticed, but no one else was here except for him and the Demon Hunter. He looked over at Jack, in bed and dead asleep, but before he could go over to check on him, the door opened.

“Oh, Lyndon, you're awake!” Eirena said cheerfully, then immediately went to the wooden tub that was still filled with filthy water, now ice cold in the chill of the Keep.

“Yes, uhm, _what_ are you doing?” The thief asked, approaching her. She touched the surface of the water with her hand lightly and closed her eyes. Curious, Lyndon observed, and as he watched, the water cleared and suddenly started to steam.

“I've removed the impurities in the water and heated it for you, you should take a bath now. You do smell rather _badly_.” She said with the same gentle smile.

“Oh thank Akarat! I knew your magic was good for _something_.” He exclaimed, overjoyed. He couldn't wait to clean the filth off of his skin!

She nodded at him in acknowledgment and then checked on the Demon Hunter, touching his head lightly. Lyndon was surprised and a bit worried that Jack didn't move at all. Was he _alright_? Eirena was already making for the door before he'd been able to formulate any of his questions!

“Wait! Where are you going?” He managed before she could leave. “Won't you _join_ me?” He suggested in his most irresistible voice with a perfectly crafted, devilish smile to go with it.

"To help the soldiers, and to get some ice for Jack, he has a slight fever. It is not _serious_ , but I suspect he is uncomfortable." Eirena explained curtly, indicating the sleeping Demon Hunter and ignoring his flirtations.

A _fever_? That wiped the smile right off his face.

Lyndon went to the man's bedside and touched his head gently, hesitantly feeling the heat there. He did feel warm, and there was sweat on his brow. The scoundrel was suddenly fascinated by the man, he had taken on far more weight then he should ever have been expected to carry, but not only did he not crumble beneath the burden, he had emerged _victorious_. Well, Lyndon supposed he _had_ crumbled after, but he had still managed to do the impossible! Is that what a Nephalem was supposed to be able to achieve? Like that wizard Zultan Kulle had said? The thief carefully brushed a few strands of hair out of Jack's face and stroked lightly at the skin, before remembering that Eirena was still there. Suddenly self conscious, he pulled his hand away quickly.

"He'll be alright?" He asked the enchantress, feeling worried again. Jack couldn't have been doing very well if he was still _bedridden_ like this.

"Yes, sleep is the best thing for him. He'll be fine." She answered reassuringly. “You need not worry so.” She finished with a gentle smile.

He nodded distractedly, still not quite convinced. “Did you and Kormac already go out for food? I mean... I _ate_ what was on the plate in here already...” He said with a weak smile. “I could have helped too.” He added seriously, feeling a bit bad that he had been asleep while they had gone out into the cold. He felt _guilty_ that he hadn't helped. Jack had done so much for them, for _him_. He felt it was the least he could have done to make it up to the Demon Hunter.

“I don't think so.” Eirena said lightly, “You were _much_ too tired. But we will be going out again later for more, and your help would be invaluable.” She continued, smiling brightly. Lyndon felt warmth filling his chest at her words, she was so much _nicer_ to him than that wretched Templar, despite the things he said to her sometimes. He wondered when that had started. Ordinarily, he might have tried harder to get her to like him, but really he wasn't very interested anymore, he only said suggestive things to her to annoy Kormac or Jack.

“For now, do you mind staying here and watching him while I'm out? I need someone to keep visitors away.” Eirena added, pulling the heavy door open.

“Uhm, alright.” He agreed before really thinking about it, and she was gone again.

Satisfied, Lyndon locked the door and stripped off his pants, getting into the hot water immediately. He sat slowly with a groan of pure pleasure. Nothing in his life had ever felt this good. Not even _sex_. Well... maybe not _that_ good, but... pretty damn good. He washed himself gratefully, careful of the bruises he discovered, one for every damned _color_ practically, and relished having clean hair again. He then draped a hot towel over his face and sat back with a contented sigh.

He soaked for several long minutes in blessed peace, feeling weeks of hot fear and stress dissolve, aches and pains relaxing away. Remembering the Demon Hunter, he lifted the cloth off of his face and glanced at him. Jack was still asleep. He put the wet fabric back over his face and continued to soak until he felt like a person again.

Lyndon finally got out of the water (with much reluctance) and wrung out his hair, combing out the tangles carefully. He dressed quickly in his spare clothes (dumping two ferrets out of his bag with an irritated growl) and then put the other clean things on that had been folded. It wasn't warm in the Keep and it couldn't hurt to wear an extra layer or two. That done, he stood there in the center of the room wondering just _what_ in the Hell he was supposed to do now. Just _watch_ him?

He approached the Demon Hunter again carefully and sat on the edge of the bed. Afraid that he would startle the man awake and that Jack would attempt to murder him. He didn't stir, or even move at all. He just laid there breathing quietly, curled up under a mountain of blankets. Lyndon sat with his chin on his hand for half an hour or more, periodically checking the heat in the hunter's head, wondering when Eirena was going to come back.

The scoundrel didn't feel very confident in his ability to do something if Jack got suddenly worse, it made him feel quite anxious to be in there alone, not knowing what he should do if something like that happened. He was so worried that something might go wrong that he didn't even have the luxury of becoming _bored_ like he otherwise might have.

He stared at Jack for a little while. Glad, that at the very least, he wasn't in so much pain anymore. It had been bad last night. _Very_ bad. He searched his sleeping face, a Nephalem eh? Is that why he was able to skip meals and naps and just keep storming ahead? The boundless energy and determination the man had was a bit difficult to comprehend. Lyndon didn't think he could have even gone up the staircase again last night, let alone dive into Hell, kill a demon lord and about a thousand of his minions, then go on the warpath through Heaven in the _same day,_ and then kill _all_ of the demon lords that had been crammed into one decidedly bizarre looking body. Even the thought of going outside into the cold again sounded almost impossible. Gods, Jack had done it all by himself.

Well, _almost_ by himself, the thief thought proudly. The good he had done in helping this man almost made up for every wretched thing he'd ever done in his life. _Almost_. And Jack had given him the greatest, most generous gift he had ever received, even if it was only gold, it was the promise that came with it, the promise to _fix_ everything. Lyndon wondered, and not for the first time, why he had ever joined the Thieves Guild in the first place, all it had done was get him into trouble. He was good at stealing and conning and talking people into things they didn't want to do, _sure_ , even enjoyed the challenge it provided and the lifestyle it allowed. But there were men there that had other interests that just _disgusted_ him. Men who would kill women and children for a few coins, torture, _rape_ , sell children into slavery, just _unimaginable_ cruelty. Lyndon could fit in easily enough, pretend, but he was not like them. At least, he desperately hoped that he was not.

Jack had said he was a good person, and Lyndon wanted, more than _anything,_ to believe him. It had been a long time since anyone had believed in him like that. Not since Edlin... Gods, his poor brother...

Lyndon sighed, not wanting to work himself into a state like the one he had been in the other day. How embarrassing. Instead he reached into the pocket of his coat for his deck of cards and laid out a game of solitaire on the bed. After many games, and a few half-hearted attempts at practicing his card tricks, he felt much better. He glanced at the clock again and was shocked to see that three hours had passed since he had woken. Where were Eirena and Kormac?

Noting the man's weapons and armor lying strewn about, he remembered that Haedrig had asked for them to be brought to him for cleaning and tuning. He thought that bringing the blacksmith Jack's things and returning quickly, might help him feel a bit more useful and he could ask around to try to find out where everyone had gone. He gathered the hunter's armor and crossbows, handling the weapons delicately and holding them by the leather straps rather than the handles. Jack had told him once that if he ever attempted to use them or touch them in such a way (Lyndon did have the bad habit of touching things that did not belong to him), that they would harm him, they were tuned to Jack alone and were warded against being used by any others. Thinking on Jack's knowledge of unusual weaponry and explosives, Lyndon suspected that the man had likely crafted them himself.

Lyndon hurried upstairs, not wanting to be away for too long in case something happened.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Haedrig sighed a bit and wiped sweat from his brow, unknowingly smearing a line of soot across his forehead. He had been keeping the forge fire roaring since dawn, fed with wood scraps of unused coffins and destroyed siege equipment. At first it was to try to heat the room since the demand for quality weapons had stopped coming when the number of soldiers had dwindled to a measly three hundred men. But now, Eirena, Kormac and a group of soldiers had been coming and going through the Arreat gate all day, bringing back carts loaded with supplies.

Not much food though. Each supply cart had been picked apart, there were other important supplies they needed, health potions, blankets, fuel, and swords to be sharpened to pick off the stragglers of Azmodan's scattered army, which is what Haedrig was _currently_ doing.

He was hungry and rather tired, so when he saw Lyndon coming up from the armory and carrying a bundle of the Demon Hunter's armor with him, he was pleased that he might have a brief respite from the forge to speak with the thief. It had taken him some time to cultivate his friendship with the man, but he was glad he had. Lyndon was fine company most of the time, he acted different around the blacksmith then he did around the others. A bit more _respectful_ , the blacksmith wasn't sure why this was, but he wouldn't complain, having overheard how Kormac went on and on about the scoundrel's less desirable qualities.

“Hullo Haedrig.” Lyndon greeted brightly, dumping the armor on top of his anvil and carefully hanging the dangerous crossbows on a hook.

“Hello yourself, where have you been?” Haedrig asked, examining the torn and ravaged armor. When he'd offered to clean and fix Jack's things, he hadn't expected them to be this bad. He'd likely have to tailor the man some new pieces.

“I uhm... I _slept_ all day.” Lyndon admitted a bit sheepishly, as though expecting a lecture. He wouldn't be hard on the lad today though, too much good had happened.

“Must've been nice, at least you're well rested, you seemed out of it yesterday.”

“I don't even _remember_ going to sleep.” Lyndon continued with a sigh. “I got up a bit ago, been watching our hero _convalesce_.”

“How is he doing? I heard he wasn't well.” Haedrig answered, peeling a strip of unidentified meat from a left shoulder armor piece with a grimace.

“Better now. Eirena said he had a fever, but last night... he was really bad off. Broken bones and such.” Lyndon said a bit worriedly, holding his hands near the forge to warm them.

Haedrig frowned. He'd broken his wrist once as a boy and remembered the pain being terrible. He shuddered to think how many broken bones the Demon Hunter had dealt with in the aftermath of their victory.

“I.. she said he'd be alright. Eirena did.” Lyndon said a bit distractedly. The poor lad looked terribly worried, Haedrig had never seen him quite so out of sorts. Though, he supposed the thief was friends with Jack as well, and worried after him like they all did. The man barely ate enough and rarely slept, Haedrig was still a bit surprised Jack wasn't dead after all this.

"Where _is_ she anyway? Her and Kormac?" Lyndon asked, he appeared concerned.

"Out in the battlefield getting supplies with some soldiers. They should be back soon." Haedrig explained, examining the pair of crossbows dubiously. perhaps he should wait until Jack woke to get his assistance with those...

"Oh..." Lyndon said, looking crestfallen. "Alright."

The blacksmith hadn't thought much on their victory. He was glad to be _alive_ of course, but he had resigned himself to accept whichever fate came to him. Now that the world was saved, it was back to business as usual. He would not have it any other way.

Lyndon frowned, “I should be getting back to check on him actually. I'll... see you later then Haedrig?” Lyndon said hopefully with a smile.

“Aye, I think the soldiers are trying to put together some sort of celebration later tonight. I've no doubt they'll bring out the wine.” Haedrig commented, allowing a smile to spread over his face.

Lyndon grinned, “Ah, most splendid!” He turned and headed back down the armory stairs.

=+=+=+=+=+=

When the thief returned to the armory, he was annoyed that there was a group of children crowded around the door and talking amongst themselves. “Should we knock?” One little girl whispered. Another boy answered her, “He must be in there...”

“Why don't you knock Beryn?” a sandy haired boy asked. Lyndon recognized the blonde boy as the one Jack had frequently spoken to. The one who's parents had died. “He talked to you before didn't he? Maybe _you_ should knock.” Beryn suggested to the blonde boy. Lyndon sighed and came up behind them.

“How about _none_ of you knock and you lot go play somewhere _else_ hm?” He said impatiently, Gods he detested children, dirty little snot-nosed brats, the lot of them.

Why can't we see 'im? Is he sick? Can I talk to 'im?" The boy asked anxiously. The children stared at him, large eyed. Lyndon frowned, wishing they would go away.

“He's resting.” The thief said simply, trying to step around them to get to the door. “Come on move!”

"You're not as nice as Eirena, why does he hang around with _you_?"

“That's too bloody _bad_ isn't it? And I'm his friend that's why! He likes me just _fine_!” Lyndon snapped, defensively. He felt ridiculous, letting a herd of _brats_ hurt his feelings.

Lyndon was a little exasperated. More kids crowding him, wanting to see the hunter. "Go away!" He shouted. “He's trying to sleep!”

"Tell us a story then. Eirena always does!" Another little girl asked. The other children murmured in agreement.

“In case it isn't obvious, I'm not Eirena!” He said, annoyed, leaning against the door frame.

“Pleeeease.” They all whined, the thief grit his teeth and closed his eyes tightly.

“Gods, _fine_!” He snapped. “Once there was a group of annoying children who were _so_ damned, bloody annoying that demons came and ate them all. The end.” He said quickly.

“That's not a real story!” One boy yelled over the whiny protests of the other children.

“Urrrgggh!” Lyndon growled, frustrated.

“Fine, fine, _fine_! If I tell you a story will you all go away?” Lyndon asked desperately.

“Yes!” They all said together. Gods, he bloody _hated_ children!

Lyndon rolled his eyes and started to tell them about the fat demon Ghom that he and Jack had killed in the larder. He carefully omitted the gorier details of the dead soldiers forced to cannibalize each other... and the blood, but kept in all the gross parts he knew kids liked. The children gasped in awe at all the appropriate parts, and Lyndon found that after a few minutes, he was actually starting to _enjoy_ himself. He _did_  like to tell stories...

He was so wrapped up in spinning the tale that he almost didn't see Eirena come back, holding a bowl of ice and smiling at him as he finished the story. When he looked up at the enchantress, the children followed his gaze and all ran to her. It made him just the slightest bit sad.

Eirena approached him after shooing the brats away, “That was very nice of you to entertain them Lyndon.” She said, “How is Jack?”

“I was in there a few minutes ago. I was just about to check.” he explained quickly.

“Oh, don't worry. I can watch him now. You can go help Kormac if you like” She suggested lightly and was in the room with the door closed before he could follow or even respond properly. Why did she keep _doing_ that?!

He stood there outside the door stupidly for a moment. “Uhm...Eirena! _Wait_!” he shouted and banged on the door until she opened it and let him back in.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end, for now. A little more slashy in this chapter and a bit more angsty as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”  
― Helen Keller

 

 

Eirena opened the door to the thief curiously, wondering what he wanted and why he felt the need to bang on the door so frantically, but he stormed past her without a word and went immediately to the bedside of the Demon Hunter. The enchantress smiled at that, she was beginning to like this new version of the scoundrel, he was much more pleasant to be around when he was concerned about someone other than himself. Really, she found it rather _sweet_ of him.

Then, she saw something she did not quite expect. Completely ignoring her presence, Lyndon rested a careful hand on the hunter's brow, eyebrows knit in concern and gently stroked the skin between Jack's eyebrows, as though he were petting something fragile, a fledgling bird. After a moment, seeming to suddenly remember himself, he turned his head quickly to look at her and pulled his hand away as if burned.

 _Very_ curious.

“Something _funny_?” The thief barked defensively. He appeared so flustered, so unlike himself, that she could not help but grin wide.

“You have been quite altruistic lately. But I told you to not worry so, he will be _fine_.” Eirena said with a light giggle that elicited a deep scowl on the thief's face, which only served to add to her amusement.

“I wasn't worried, I was just.... _checking_!” He snapped, flushing pink.

“Have you not checked enough?” She chided gently, soaking fabric in the ice water and cooling the sleeping hunter's face, easing the heat there.

“I was just making _sure_... And it's not _funny_! Stop laughing!” He hissed at her as she giggled behind her hand. She could see that he was embarrassed, it felt good to get him back for all the times he had humiliated poor Kormac in her presence.

The scoundrel growled when she could not control herself. “I don't have to take this! I'll go find Kormac, he's miserable enough, he'll never bloody laugh at anything!” Lyndon grumbled.

“He is on the battlefield.” Eirena managed to say between peals of laughter, it was refreshing to laugh after all the stress and heartache she had felt the last few days. “He will likely appreciate your assistance in retrieving-”

“ _Yes, yes, yes_. Great. Whatever.” He muttered dismissively, “Have an _amusing_ time.” He added with a sarcastic wave of his hand. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the hunter's warm cloak that lay folded on an empty bed, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him with a snap.

=+=+=+=+=+=

“Come now Kormac, surely you could just _talk_ to her.” Lyndon urged him gently. The Templar couldn't believe the man was bringing this up again. And out _here_ of all places! Likely because the wretched scoundrel knew that Kormac could not just avoid him out in the black emptiness of the battlefield. They had valuable supplies to bring back. He stared at the thief, gaping in sheer awe of his persistence. Lyndon looked odd wearing black, having obviously borrowed a cloak that did _not_ belong to him, (Kormac had a pretty good idea of who it _did_ belong to though) and was smiling at him in a rather absurd manner. And damn it if he didn't look comfortably _warm_ in that stolen cloak too!

“I have told you a thousand, nay a _million_ times, that I have vows to the Templar Order, are you so thick that you cannot _remember_ this after so many reminders?” Kormac hissed at him, practically spitting.

“Hmm. Ahh, why yes, I _do_ seem to recall you saying something about some sort of silly vows you had taken. It is bit hazy though.” Lyndon replied airily.

Kormac uttered a loud yell of pure frustration then, nearly giving in to his desire to pick the man up and hurl him like a spear.

“Hush, you'll startle our dear pony.” Lyndon laughed heartily, which only served to make Kormac clench his hands in a bid to control his anger. Lyndon managed to stay quiet for a time after that, perhaps finally sensing Kormac's black mood.

They were walking through the snow across a corpse littered battlefield. It was very dark and very cold, but thankfully there was no wind to flay their skin raw and make their eyes water and sting. They walked, leading one tired horse by torchlight, each on one side of her, both had a hand on her leather bridle, keeping her going in a straight line toward the lights of Bastion's Keep. The mare was cold and tired, but she was of a strong breed and they needed her to pull the wagon of food they had cobbled together. Having found the fresh, frozen corpse of a packbeast, as Lyndon had said, would provide everyone with enough food to last another week at least. Pleased by this thought, Kormac calmed considerably. He thought he should reward the mare's honorable services with an apple, a warm blanket, and all the hay she could ever want, once they got inside the Arreat Gate. Kormac had known that if they had not found the pack beast meat, they likely would have killed the poor mare to feed everyone, he was grateful the gentle horse did not have to suffer such a fate.

Kormac reflected again on his poor decision to tell Lyndon of his attraction to the enchantress. The thief was, in fact, the _only_ person he had outright admitted it to, and he had regretted telling him every day since. He suspected the Demon Hunter _also_ knew, since the scoundrel could not keep his trap shut and hung around the taller man most of the time, but Jack had not said anything to him. Lyndon had teased Kormac relentlessly since the Templar had confided in him, but had so far not told Eirena outright. Nevertheless, Lyndon constantly urged him to talk to her whenever they were alone together. Kormac supposed it was preferable to arguing about other things, but whenever he spoke to the scoundrel, he did not seem to be able to keep his temper in check and their talks frequently ended in verbal fights nonetheless.

“However...” Lyndon began again, after the long silence. “You seem to forget how many times _I_ have told you that your Order does not seem to be telling you the whole truth. You have uncovered lies and flimsy cover ups more than once. You _know_ that you had been bloody tortured to forget your past, a life where you had not sinned at all. You were as much of a goody two shoes then as you are now, and you even found illustrations to make angelic weapons to fit _human_ -”

“Alright, alright!” Kormac shouted, “I know all of that, you've made your damned point!” The Templar sighed. Sometimes he wondered why he ever spoke to the man at all. A small voice in the back of his mind said that Lyndon sometimes made _sense_. He angrily squashed it down. It was merely the weak part of him, wishing everything bad were _true_ so that he could abandon his Order and faith and be with Eirena. Well, if she... _wanted_ to be with him that is.

“I cannot just _assume_. I must go to Westmarch and consult the Grand Meister for answers first.” Kormac finished quietly. “Jack said that he would aid me in this task, we are to go to Westmarch in a month or two.”

“Ah, you know what they say about _assume_ , it makes an _ass_ out of _you_ and _me_! Ahaha... Though, it is likely your Meister will lie to you.” Lyndon finished seriously.

“Oh like how you lie to me?” Kormac snapped, tolerance for Lyndon's shenanigans beginning to wear thin.

The thief balked then, and had the gall to look offended, “Why I- how _dare_ you? I have _never_ lied to you!”

“I don't _believe_ you!” Kormac bellowed.

“That is wise.” Scoundrel said with a smile. The Templar grit his teeth feeling his jaw creak.

“I was serious before, you should take this window of opportunity to talk to Eirena.” Lyndon reiterated in a gentle tone.

“Did we _not_ just discuss-” Kormac seethed, blood boiling at the thief's inability to listen to him.

“How about a game of cards to settle the matter hm?” The scoundrel offered quickly, interrupting his display of anger. “If I win, you _have_ to talk to her. If I lose, as unlikely as that sounds, I'll leave you alone... for a time.” he implored evenly.

“You will cheat me!” Kormac accused immediately. He would not fall for this trick again!

“Cross my heart I won't! A game of wits and skill and _honor_ it shall be!” Lyndon declared dramatically.

Kormac considered this a moment, resting his hand on the horse's soft muzzle to warm it for her. “By my faith, you have my word... if it will shut you up then consider your challenge accepted!”

=+=+=+=+=+=

They had all feasted. Lyndon and Kormac had returned to the Keep to practically a _second_ hero's welcome. Everyone was overjoyed to finally have food. The women (and much of the men) had banded together and cooked up a rather spectacular late night supper of vegetables and brick oven baked bread, the roast pack beast was cooked to perfection and they had enough vegetables to round out the meal nicely. After a brief visit in the armory room to ask Eirena about the Demon Hunter, The thief had only been slapped three times while he tried to hassle the ladies kneading bread dough in a back room. A good day!

Now that everyone was happy, fed and comfortable, Lyndon stood (face throbbing just a bit) with Haedrig, Covetous Shen, Captain Haile, Damotrius and a few more able bodied soldiers. They stood in a circle around a wooden case of ancient wine bottles and examined them dubiously, but with _great_ interest, as though inspecting a rigged treasure chest. Lyndon had more than enough experience with those, so he felt it best to proceed cautiously when he saw something that seemed too good to be true.

"Where did you find this again private?" Captain Haile asked the young soldier distractedly, observing the maroon liquid within the dust and spiderweb caked bottles.

"They were... bricked up in the _wall_ Sir." Damotrius answered immediately. Ever the soldier, even though the battles had ended. For now.

“What in the Hell for?” The captain snapped irritably.

“This place was built by Kagus Deel, Sir, the drunken architect. We thought they would be long gone by now, but apparently he still has stashes all over the keep.” Damotrius offered hesitantly.

“A man after my own heart.” Lyndon said dreamily, then added, “That explains the dead end hallways _downstairs_ I suppose, drunken bastard.” Shen giggled at this and Lyndon grinned at him.

"Do you think they're safe to drink?" Haedrig asked curiously. The wood practically looked petrified. The bottles were literally centuries old.

"It's _alcohol_. I'm sure its fine." Lyndon said cheerfully, he may have been acting a bit foolhardy, but damn if he didn't want a bloody drink!

" _You_ drink it then." Haedrig suggested, “If yeh die from it then at least you'll have saved th' rest of us from the same fate.”

"Hey, you don't need to twist _my_ arm!” Lyndon responded with a laugh, then uncorked the bottle carefully. What if it _exploded_ or something? Was this Kagus Deel a rogue wizard perhaps? There were a lot of strange fire traps down in the Keep depths... perhaps he'd protected his wine caches as well?

At least, that was what _Lyndon_ would have done. And if not? Well... enough alcohol would kill just about anything.

It smelled alright at least. The men watched with bated breath as he took a sip. He stood there a moment after, and they stared at him as if he would drop dead at any moment.

“Well?” Covetous Shen asked impatiently.

“Prophet's _bones_... it's some of the best I've ever had!” He murmured, shocked by the quality, but he recovered quickly and grabbed three more bottles.

“Hey! Give me some o' that!” Captain Haile shouted at him.

“No, I need it. I _deserve_ it.” Lyndon wailed, clutching the bottles to his chest protectively. He made a quick escape, leaving everyone to fight over what was left.

Hours later, after many rowdy card games and shared drinks. Kormac was sulking and sweating slightly, sharing apples with his new horse friend. “Remember your _honor_ Kormac, I said a game of skill did I not? To cheat successfully, one must know the game inside and out. Don't you have a _lady_ you should be talking to? And _no_ , lady horses do not count.” Lyndon called to him smugly.

“Shut up wretch. I said I would didn't I?” Kormac huffed angrily. He looked like a man going to the guillotine. Lyndon couldn't remember the last time he had felt so nervous to talk to a woman... well... it was a lifetime ago anyway.

“If you love the light so bloody much, perhaps you might _lighten_ up, eh? Ahahaha!” The Templar merely scowled at him. “Cheer up Kormac. Hey, do you know how to make holy water?” Lyndon asked him with a smile.

Kormac sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “ _How_?” He moaned.

“Boil the _Hell_ out of it! HA!” Lyndon laughed, patting him on the back before joining the soldiers back at the table.

Some time later, the games were over and everyone was comfortably tipsy, warmed by alcohol of the highest quality. It was then that the tales began to come. Each man that remained was alive because of the Demon Hunter. The hesitantly began to give their accounts of seeing Jack fight and being rescued by him on the battlefield.

“I saw him kill a hundred skeleton archers in two blows I did!” One lad exclaimed. “What comes _out_ of those crossbows of his? Dynamite?”

“He saved me from burning debris! I was trapped beneath it, I surely would have cooked.” Another said from the end of the table.

“Shot down one o' them flying bastards that tried to carry me off th' wall 'e did!” An older man with a broken arm said over his cup of wine. Lyndon listened to their stories patiently, glad that Jack had been in almost multiple places at once to save these men. Jack had saved the thief's life thousands of times in thousands of ways, he was quite certain he had their stories beat, but now was not the time to gloat apparently, as the men had begun to question him.

"That Demon Hunter, e's your friend right?" The broken armed soldier asked.

"Yes, he is." Lyndon replied proudly, aimlessly shuffling the card deck in his hands.

"They say 'e's a... _is_ 'e?" The man whispered cautiously.

"Is he a... _what_?" Lyndon asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"A _demon_?" He finished, practically under his breath. Lyndon almost laughed.

"Oh _no_ ! No, nonono, of course not! Don't be-" Then he paused, and he _thought_ about it. "Well..." He began, and then realized that everyone was staring at him and hanging on his every word. He looked around for Haedrig, Covetous Shen or Kormac, but they were no where to be seen. They'd probably be able to answer this much better than he could. Eirena or Tyrael would likely be the _most_ qualified, but they weren't here either. Lyndon supposed Jack would be too if he were here but... he didn't really _talk_ much anyway.

"Uhm... he is... _partly_ , I think.” Lyndon began, struggling to remember what he had heard. “But technically we _all_ are. Part angel, part demon, that's what humans are."

“That's rubbish.” The older man said. The other soldiers listened with rapt attention.

“Oh it's _rubbish_ issit? Who went to Heaven then you limp armed bastard? Him or you?” Captain Haile cut in, a bit drunk, but just as loud as he'd always been. “I heard it from the angel Tyrael _hisself._ ” Lyndon grinned wolfishly at the drunk Captain, pleased to be defended.

“Then 'ow come we aren't all as good as 'im then if we're all part angel and part demon or whatnot?” A tipsy soldier asked.

Lyndon thought on this, he probably wasn't the _best_ person to ask, but he would try to explain. “Because the Worldstone that was in Mt. Arreat was tuned so that we would get weaker over the generations. Nephalem are from centuries ago, we were once like them, but over time, we became, well _normal_ I suppose.” He said as coherently as he could manage. It was still confusing to him, let alone soldiers who had little concept of the history of Sanctuary and had not seen what Lyndon had seen in the Demon Hunter's company.

As the hour grew later, the soldiers prattled on about angels and demons and argued over the truth of what Lyndon knew to be fact. Eventually, most were too drunk to coherently speak of _anything_ , let alone such complicated subjects such as the origins of mankind.

Tired now, Lyndon wobbled his way back to the armory's private room. Kormac and Eirena were asleep, but not in the same bed as Lyndon had hoped. Jack still appeared to be sleeping as well, and the concern for him came back full force. Though... if Eirena were asleep... then he supposed the hunter really was alright and Lyndon really _should_ stop worrying so bloody much, it was much too stressful and he'd had enough stress in the last week to last him six lifetimes.

The scoundrel crawled back into his bed and was asleep quickly, helped along to dream land by two bottles of wine.

=+=+=+=+=+=

The world came back in pieces, hazy colors and lights first, then ambient sounds that began muffled, but cleared over time. There was a light haired figure seated next to him. Blonde. Hair light and silvery just like he remembered her. He tried to speak.

“Ha... lissa?” He managed to croak, throat dry and raw like a burning desert.

“What? _Jack_?” A concerned voice answered. He _knew_ that voice, the haze finally cleared and it was not his years-dead sister who sat before him, but Eirena. Her normally done up hair was down, and hung long, straight and pretty about her face. Jack blinked at her, feeling strange and groggy. But more or less alright. Thinking about it, he realized he felt more rested than he had in weeks. He sat up slowly and aches and pains immediately made themselves known, but they were small and easily ignored.

“Please be careful, you've been asleep for quite a while, you're not yet fully healed.” The enchantress advised him in a gentle voice.

Jack closed his eyes a moment and sighed. He noticed he was still dressed and was very glad for it. The only worrisome thing was that he seemed to have a rather large gap in his memory. He did not know how he came to be in this bed nor how injured he had apparently been. The last thing he remembered was talking to Lyndon, everything after that was just pain and blackness.

“How long?” He rasped, swallowing. Eirena quickly handed him some water that he drank greedily.

“Almost two days now.” She responded lightly, rubbing the belly of one of his ferrets that lay sprawled in her lap.

“Two _days_?” Jack said with some disbelief, voice better now. It hadn't felt nearly so long, the hunter had guessed it had been hours, a full night at most. He had never before slept for such an extended period of time. Hadn't known it was possible, especially for him of all people.

Eirena nodded and smiled sadly at him. “You had some very serious injuries, four broken ribs, three cracked ribs... “ She counted off on her fingers, “Some burns, cuts, scrapes and a countless number of bruises, but Kormac and I have healed most of it. Though you should be careful of the bones, Kormac was not able to finish restoring them before he became too tired to continue.” The enchantress explained. “Not to mention you had _exhausted_ yourself. You had a slight fever too, but I think you're alright now.” She finished with a smile.

Jack digested this information with more than a little surprise, he had known about some of the injuries, but he had not realized it had been as _bad_ as all that. Though, he supposed he should have, it had certainly _hurt_ enough.

“Thank you for healing me. I must thank Kormac as well.” He said quietly.

“Of course, it was the least we could do, I'm glad you're alright now. I was a bit worried. Lyndon will be glad to know you are up, he was very concerned as well.” She said with a concerning _giggle_.

“Lyndon?” Jack questioned. The other ferret had made itself known by nuzzling into his left hand that rested on the blankets. He scratched its head gently with his index finger and thumb, it chittered happily.

“Yes, he barely left me alone, asking after you every other minute.” She replied with a another stifled, bubbly laugh.

“Hmm.” Jack was a bit amused by this, he had never seen Lyndon worry all that much for anyone other than himself. _Apparently_ Eirena was tickled by the thought as well.

He suddenly remembered, “Where is Tyrael? Did they already have the council-” He began anxiously.

“Yes, yesterday.” Eirena interrupted quickly. “They decided not to ask for you, and well, you would not have been able to go anyways. They made their decision and wanted to tell as few people as possible. But Tyrael told me that he will form a new Horadrim and they will hide the stone on Sanctuary, where neither angels nor demons will be able to find it.”

Jack nodded at her explanation, frustrated that he had been unable to attend and wondered curiously where on Sanctuary even existed a place that was safe from the eyes of angel and demon alike and could house such a dangerous thing. He doubted there even _was_ such a place, but kept his thoughts to himself. He trusted Tyrael to do what was right and hoped that they would never again hear the voices of the demon lords that yearned to be freed from that cursed stone. The stone that had taken so _much_. He tried to push thoughts of Leah away before they fully formed. The pain they brought were worse than any shattered bone could ever be.

“When did you last eat?” She asked suddenly, shaking him from his dark thoughts.

As if her mentioning it made his body remember, he suddenly felt so hungry that it bordered on nausea. He swallowed and thought on her question, a little surprised he could not answer her right away. He'd avoided eating to leave more for the people in the Keep, the health potions had been enough to keep him going but... Gods, how long _had_ it been?

“I... I don't _remember_.” He admitted sheepishly.

Eirena frowned and appeared a bit angry. “We will start small then.” she said evenly and handed him a cup of broth and a bit of bread from a tray behind her. The food was fresh he noted. He was glad they seemed to have found food.

“For someone who tries so hard to care for _other_ people, you take very poor care of _yourself_!” Eirena stated angrily.“You will _not_ do something like this again. You must learn to pay attention to your needs or you will not be able to keep going.” She lectured. Jack nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed to be mothered so. “You should not have concealed your injuries. You could have died. It was foolish of you.” The enchantress finished.

“I'm sorry... I didn't fully realize how bad it was until it was too late... thank you... for _caring_ for me.” He apologized quietly. She softened at that, and though the thought of eating _anything_ at the moment made his stomach turn, he wanted to appease her, so he drank a little broth. And as the warmth of it filled his empty gut, the sick feeling left and he felt significantly better.

“Really, I'm _glad_ you're alright.” She said again quietly, smiling down at the ferret she petted. Jack was sorry he had ever made her worry over him, sorry that Lyndon and Kormac had worried as well. He did not want people to have to think about his well being, it was _his_ responsibility to think of _theirs_ , not the other way around.

“Eirena?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Do you know how to cut hair?”

She beamed at him and laughed merrily.

=+=+=+=+=+=

The following morning started much the same as the one before, only this time Lyndon was back out on the battlefields with Kormac much earlier in the day. The sky was clear and pretty with a few clouds whisping about, and again there was no wind to make their work significantly more miserable. A _blessing_ really. Despite how pretty it was though, it was still bitterly cold and they still traversed a field of corpses as they went back and forth with supplies and anything they could find that identified missing or dead men. Something to send their families at least if there was no body left to bury.

It was almost _worse_ to see the frozen, half eaten bodies of man and demon alike in the revealing light of day. And even worse than that was the countless number of ravens and other carrion birds that still picked at them, looking for the bits they has missed, or fighting amongst themselves over much loved favorites like the frozen _eyeball_ , or the iced _brain_.

Lyndon felt that the experience was made a little easier if he focused on the soothing sound of Kormac's nagging. Their brave little lady horse (well, maybe not _so_ little) happily pulled the cart back and forth across the frozen expanse, perhaps pleased to be out and about in nicer weather. The scoundrel found that the prayers the Templar uttered for the dead soothed him as well.

It was not so bad really, doing good work for the benefit of others. He thought that just maybe he could get accustomed to it. It was hard being on the run, almost as hard as being _alone_. Selfishness did not lend itself well to making lasting connections.

When they returned for the day to the Keep, Lyndon again asked Eirena about Jack, as he does every hour or so when he was inside, and was elated when she told him that the man was finally up and about!

“Oh, he's fine. He's awake now!” Eirena said to him cheerfully when he'd found her sorting the items they'd brought back with the other women. He noticed that the children were absent and wondered what kind of mischief they were likely getting themselves into. He furiously hoped it had nothing to do with any of his possessions or there would be Hell to pay!

“Oh! Well, where _is_ he then?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could. He was desperate to replace the awful memory of the man lying nearly lifeless on the floor, suffering unimaginable pain, with something better. Like Jack finally standing on his own two feet without _help_.

“He went to the tower, outside the armory.” Eirena said with a hint of sadness. There were several towers outside the armory entrance, but he knew exactly which one she was referring to without having to ask for specifics.

The tower where Leah had died. He should have guessed Jack would go there.

Thanking her, he left and went to find the Demon Hunter. He had avoided the door that led to this tower ever since they had returned from Heaven. The pain of what they had witnessed happen to that poor girl was right at the surface. It was the worst thing he had ever seen. With a heavy heart, he climbed the staircase, hoping that at least he wouldn't have to look at that wretched sigil, and all the blood and candles and dead soldiers strewn about. He didn't think he'd be able to take the sight of it a second time.

But when he reached the top of the tower he was met with a sight very different from what he had remembered. The vile sigil had been scrubbed away and there were _wildflowers_ , at least a hundred of them piled up in the center of the platform. They were white with icy blue centers, short stubby things that had been picked by who could say from _Akarat_ only knows.

And Jack was there along with every wretched brat in the Keep. It was so _good_ to see him up, just an immense relief. He looked a little worn and still a little gaunt, but he was _eating_ , one hand holding bread, the other an apple. If the hunter knew the scoundrel was there, he did not let on. He wore no armor, just a black knitted wrap of some kind, it looked warm at least, and just his plain black boots and pants. Standing there, he looked like an enormous crow. A black shape that towered over the children that were in thrall to him.

His hair had been cut, Lyndon observed. It was much shorter in the back, but longer in the front and long bangs hung over his eyes. His hair looked a lot cleaner and more cared for than it had since he'd met him. The wind kicked up and caught pieces of it, blowing it freely about his face like the flapping wings of black birds. For a single moment, he thought he looked _beautiful_ , but then he blinked and the thought was gone before he could really even think about it.

There was an archer's target set up at the opposite edge. Jack was patiently teaching the young boy that captain Haile was adopting how to shoot a bow and arrow. _Leah's_ bow and arrow. So they had something left of her to bring back to New Tristram after all. He pictured the site of the urn where the ashes of Deckard Cain rested and it seemed only right that the bow would sit next to it on that overlook that looked so pretty in springtime.

He really needed to stop this. He'd really cried enough.

Lyndon sat himself on the stone wall and observed the scene with great amusement.

"Keep your arm straight and steady.” Jack said tot the boy. “It is not about you and your part in achieving the end goal of hitting the target. It is about being unconscious of yourself until there is _only_ the bow and the arrow. You must let the arrow go where it wants. Only when you feel you have _become_ it, should you loose it." The hunter explained patiently to the boy who pulled the bowstring back and held it for many moments, arm trembling. Jack may have looked a bit tired still, but his voice was strong.

After a few moments more, the blonde haired boy loosed the arrow and it struck the eastern edge of the target with an audible thunk. "I-I hit it!" the lad exclaimed in joyful disbelief.

"Very good. you seem to be a natural, with practice you could become a regular master. Who's next?" Jack asked, addressing the children around him.

They all seemed to erupt at once, waving their hands eagerly. And Jack smiled, a _real_ one, unguarded and honest. Lyndon has never seen him smile like _that_ before, it transformed his features completely.

 _He'd make a good father_ , Lyndon thought suddenly. Better than the scoundrel ever would have at least. Rea was so much better off having married his brother. His noble, _wonderful_ brother who was better than him in every possible way. The brother that he would soon be able to free with the unbelievably generous help of the man standing in front of him.

He owed him the world.

“I like your haircut.” Lyndon finally said with a smile, making his presence known.

The hunter turned to him then, there was nothing on his face to indicate that he was surprised by the thief's presence in any way. “Thanks.” he said looking a bit shy and lightly touching the back of his head where long hair used to be. “Eirena cut it for me.”

“Feeling better then are you?” Lyndon inquired hopefully.

"Well enough, and I was _wondering_ what had happened to my cloak." Jack replied, slightly irritated. Lyndon grinned at him, took it off and gave it back. The hunter gratefully put it on, looking much more himself.

"I still can't bend too much, or draw a bow. Or at least I'm not _supposed_ to.” He continued with a look of deep frustration. “Want to help?" Jack asked him, indicating the children who wanted a turn to fire the bow.

Lyndon was a bit taken aback at the question and suddenly felt nervous for reasons he could not explain. "Um, a-alright." He agreed quickly.

A small brown haired girl stood in front of him expectantly, holding the bow in her tiny (no doubt grubby and snot smeared) hands. "Listen up brat. Don't listen to _his_ rubbish, archery all about proper _stance_." He adjusted her back and legs with light touches until she looked like a little archer.

“Just, aim, pray to whatever god _pleases_ you, and fire when ready!” The girl closed one eye and stuck her tongue out while she held the bowstring back with difficulty. The bow was a bit big for her, but they didn't have any smaller ones available. She _certainly_ wasn't going to use either of the hunter's twin crossbows.

After a minute, she fired at the target and missed by a foot. Lyndon clicked tongue sympathetically and handed her another arrow that she patiently held until it wouldn't tilt away from the string. Noticing a flaw, he dragged her foot back and she wobbled a bit, but then fired and struck dead center.

"Haha! _Bulls_ eye!" Lyndon exclaimed, “T ake _that_ Demon Hunter!” He crowed triumphantly.

Jack merely sighed. “Yes, you have certainly taught me much about your bow and crossbow “techniques” Lyndon. “Shoot and hope for the best” is a technique I've certainly never had the pleasure of learning.” He responded dryly, completely underwhelmed. The girl giggled and smiled up at Lyndon triumphantly, she was missing one of her baby teeth. He stared back at her, with her short brown hair and Leah's bow in her hand.

Doing this... for _them_. It was something Leah would have done without a second thought. Lyndon suddenly felt incredibly sad again, but it was worse this time, a heavy ache that settled deep in his heart and again he felt like he wanted to cry. But he blinked hard and looked away from her and it passed quickly.

"Lyndon." Jack said.

"Hm?" He turned to look at him.

"What will you do now?” The hunter asked him seriously.

“Uhm, I guess I hadn't really thought about it. Probably go back to my old activities, until you ask for me or something... to... go to Kingsport...?” He brought it up again hesitantly, he still wasn't quite sure the Demon Hunter intended to keep his promise, or that it wasn't even just a conversation he _dreamed_ whilst unconscious. He wanted it so badly he was afraid that it was simply too good to be true. Like everything else he had ever desired with every inch of his heart.

The Demon Hunter seemed to ponder his words while he watched the children take turns with the bow.

“I was wondering if you would accompany me to Westmarch.” Jack eventually said. “I want to pass through Caldeum when we're done cleaning up here, and also stop by in Tristram to make sure everything is alright.” The hunter turned to him again, “I don't yet know how to assist Eirena, but Kormac's Order sits astride Westmarch and we must get to the bottom of it, lives may be at stake. And after _that_... we can go to Kingsport and free your brother.” He finished with a slight upward quirk of his lips. As close to a smile as he usually got.

Lyndon felt something in his chest loosen and he breathed out in relief. It wasn't like he had anything _special_ to do besides moving from one woman to the next and sending gold home. The Thieves Guild was still looking for him and he felt it was unwise to travel by himself. That and he _always_ made gold with Jack.

And they were friends. He wanted to stay with him.

“Sounds fun.” He answered with a grin, “Alright then.”

Jack directed a smile at him that made his breath catch. He didn't get to observe it for long though, something was tugging rather insistently on his pant leg.

"I want to try next! I need help!" A boy shouted.

"Oh gods, stop yelling! I _hate_ that!" Lyndon snapped at him. Gods, they were no better than _animals_. "Let go of me! Wait your bloody turn!" But he went to help him anyway.

They made sure all the kids had a try until it became too cold and they were starting to lose the light. Jack took the bow back and sent them back inside.

"When were you thinking of leaving?" Lyndon asked once they were alone.

"Three days." Jack replied simply.

Lyndon sputtered, "T- _three days_?! But you're barely healed!"

"Nearly healed." Jack corrected. "I'll be fine."

"Want your rib cage caved in again already do you? You're supposed to be careful of it." Lyndon lectured.

“I've already heard as much from Eirena, but Nephalem heal quickly do they not?" Jack asked him curiously.

Lyndon didn't quite know what to say to that. It was the first time Jack had actually admitted to what they all thought he was. He was the last to accept it, refusing to believe he was different or special in any way.

“That was a stupid thing you did.” He said instead, feeling a bit upset.

“What?” Jack asked curiously.

“Not telling anyone how _badly_ you were hurt!” Lyndon shot back quickly.

“Honestly, I didn't even _know_ at first. I knew that I wasn't _fine_ , but it didn't even hurt until I was in the armory room, and then I... don't remember anything after letting you back in.” Jack admitted hesitantly.

Lyndon sighed.“Well, don't do it _again_ .” He replied curtly, slightly embarrassed he had even said anything at _all_.

“I'm sorry I worried you.” Jack said with a smirk.

“Hmph.” Lyndon looked away from him at the sky. The sun had dipped low on the horizon and had set the sky alight in reds and oranges. From this high up in the mountains, it was truly a spectacular view.

“We should go in, it's cold.” Lyndon said, thinking of the Demon Hunter's condition.

“We can wait a little longer.” Jack answered, staring at the setting sun. There was a calmness about the hunter now. He seemed to have recovered much of his spirit in lieu of their victory. And it couldn't hurt to stand out a few minutes more, for the first time in months, they finally had the luxury of _time_.

“Yes, I... suppose we can.” Lyndon sighs and settles in against the stone, hunched into his coat against the cold.

They wait at the top of the tower for a time. Neither one speaking, watching the sky turn from red to purple then a deep sapphire. They did not leave to go back inside until the Sky Lights of the North danced in ribbons of color among the blinking stars.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess I did not edit this with a critical eye. I will examine it in more detail when I get a moment.
> 
> More stories on the way....


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